


The Sky above the Rain

by London9Calling



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Barebacking, First Time, M/M, Mutant Powers, OT12 - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 01:00:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8424505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/London9Calling/pseuds/London9Calling
Summary: Yifan is fascinated by the strange man with sadness in his eyes and rain at his heels.





	

Yifan held the small wooden piece in his hand, his eyes narrowing as he tried to identify the exact place– the exact miniscule slot where the piece needed to go. He moved his hand forward at a snail’s pace, marveling at how steady he was. It hadn’t been that long since his hand would shake so badly he could never dream of putting something so intricate together. 

He was so close, only a few centimeters away from sliding the part into the model when he was interrupted. 

“I saw him again.” Luhan plopped onto the sofa next to Yifan, completely ignoring the fact the other man was working on something. The table in front of the sofa shook, sending the model skidding a few millimeters.

Yifan turned around and glared at Luhan. “Be careful,” he said through gritted teeth.

Luhan shrugged, nonplussed by Yifan’s contained rage. Yifan didn’t scare him. “Just thought you would want to know, since you said you were interested and all that.”

Yifan set the small piece down on the table and leaned back into the sofa, letting out a breath. “Saw who?” He rubbed his hands over his eyes and blinked a few times, trying to refocus after spending so much time staring at the small model ship. A thud got his attention.

The door to the room hit the paneling, colliding hard with the wall– an unnecessary thing considering it was already open. Yifan would know that sound anywhere, and he would know who would be that clumsy going through an already open door.

“Yifan, we saw him again–” Jongdae stopped talking when he saw Luhan. “Well, steal my thunder why don’t you.”

Luhan rolled his eyes. “That joke doesn’t get funnier the more times you tell it.”

“Shut up Mr. You Read My Mind har-har,” Jongdae shot back.

Yifan ignored both men as they fell into a pseudo argument, too embarrassed to admit he had no idea who they were talking about. Someone he had asked about? Who could it be?

“Rain started the moment he appeared.” Jongdae jumped onto the couch, taking a seat on the other side of Yifan as soon as Luhan delivered his last barb.

It was enough information for Yifan to know who exactly they were referring to. “Was he alone?” Yifan tented his fingers, suddenly full of questions. 

“Yeah, didn’t see anyone with him,” Luhan reported, letting out a heavy sigh. “Do you really think he might be one of us?”

“I’m not sure.” Yifan breezed past the question, unable to truly answer it. He had been trying to understand exactly who the man was since he first saw him two weeks ago, but he was coming up empty handed. “Now tell me everything that you saw, from the moment he appeared. Don’t leave anything out.”

Jongdae rambled off the encounter. He had been visiting a cafe with Luhan when they spotted the man across the street, looking both parts lost and distraught. The rain had started then, a torrent of it, a surprise downpour considering the forecast had pegged the day to be cloudless and sunny. 

“He got into a taxi then, and we lost him,” Luhan finished the story, adding one last detail, “When he was gone the rain stopped.”

Yifan soaked in every word, mulling it in his mind as he tried to put together the puzzle that had been eating at him for the last fourteen days. Just who was this mystery man, and was he one of them? And if so, how was that even possible…

 

 

 

He traced his fingertip over the books, going down the row until he found what he was looking for. January, 1995 was written on the spine and on the cover in neat, small letters. The writing was starting to fade a little due to the number of times the volume had been handled. Yifan had himself looked at it hundreds if not thousands of times. Add in the others and it was a surprise the book was not falling apart. 

Yifan took the binder and walked to one of the red reading chairs. The study in the house was cozy, a few chairs and three walls of bookshelves. It was dark, the only window had heavy drapes blocking out the sunlight. The lamplight was dim, courtesy of Yixing disliking the bright 60 watt bulbs that Baekhyun insisted on. Yifan could care less, it was comfortable and it was a place to read, which was exactly what the space should be used for. 

He opened the binder on his lap, knowing exactly where he needed to look. The volume was almost four inches thick, without an index, but experience taught him where he could find the important things 

He flipped to the police report, the nearly twenty five page description of exactly what had been found that cold January day. It was written in simple language, without embellishment, an emotionless statement of the facts. It was, Yifan had come to believe, the least biased account of the day his life changed forever. 

Call received from Anseong Children’s Home, officer responded at 5:36 PM.

If he cared to he could recite the report line for line, at least most of it. He flipped a few pages until he found the portion he couldn't recite - the portion he didn’t like to read more than he had to. 

_Unidentified Child A found in backroom…_

A was joined by B and then C, right up until K. 11 in total, all without names, all without more than a few years of painful memories and frightening experiences. There were 11 of them recounted in the police report, rereading it was simply to confirm the fact. Because, if this strange man was one of them, he would have been here too. He would have been discovered at the same time they were– the police looking on in horror as they found children strapped to beds, tubes in their arms, and a very sinister and evil staff fleeing so they would not be charged. 

If this man was one of them, he would have been in that place, subjected to the same human experimentation. The same experimentation that scarred their bodies, and made them eternal outcasts. The same experimentation that made it a guarantee they could only ever live on the fringes of society and even then only if they managed to learn some self-control. 

It was a pharmaceutical company who had done this to them, all in the name of greed. They had discovered a new drug, one that had a good chance of curing a well-known childhood disease. After trying it out on monkeys and rats they looked for the next step– humans. And humans they found, eleven of them, small children abandoned by their parents to become wards of a children's home. They had no one to stand up for them, which made it easy for the company to take over their care– replacing it with disabling pain. 

The experimentation had proved that the drug was useless to cure the disease it was supposed to work against. That hadn’t stopped the doctors however, not when the drug’s side effects caught their interest. The children that were given the drug suddenly developed abilities that were above that of a normal human child. They kept feeding them the drug and studying these side effects until the day someone called the police and reported them.

It was a painful memory that was the foundation for their lives, a painful memory that made sure they were all placed in one home then the next after being rescued, forever being cast away once their unintentional behavior became too much to handle. 

Their profiles were in these binders, from police reports to medical records to psychological diagnoses. There was Yifan, who was the oldest, and page after page recounting the first time he was shoved out of a foster home because he took flight in the dining room. And ten other children followed, each recounted in the binder. 

Five years ago, Yifan had hunted down the ten people who shared his origins and gave them a permanent home, thanks to his own good fortune of finding a tolerant foster parent who eventually adopted him and then willed him their estate before passing away. It was a place where they could live together, where they could share the burden of learning self-control. 

Yifan was obsessed with the idea of finding the others, of knowing what had happened to them. And part of him knew that this obsession was driven by a selfish desire to have a family. His real parents had abandoned him and those who raised him, though kind, didn’t understand. Not the way the other ten would, having shared the same painful emergence into the world. 

And now, Yifan sat on the precipice of a new discovery, the aching feeling in his chest that this assembled family was not complete - that there was still a piece missing, driving him forward. 

Yifan closed the binder a half an hour later. He had read it all. There wasn’t a mention of a twelfth child. Yet there was something there, call it instinct or intuition, that told Yifan to keep looking. There was something strange about this man, something that Yifan could vaguely recognize as familiarity. 

 

 

 

 

“Couldn’t find a word about him,” Chanyeol announced a few days later. 

YIfan glanced at Chanyeol, then returned his gaze to his dinner plate. Chanyeol was a few years younger than him, with a power that was deadly when unleashed. His past was sordid, he was put in juvenile detention for a few years as a teenager, suspected of being an arsonist. He could start fires, and at one time he couldn’t control how or when a conflagration would follow him. It gave him a perpetual anxiety, one that made him seem jumpy and easy to please. He was tall, the second tallest next to Yifan. His long limbs and strong features contradicted his tendency to shrink back at times, collapsing into insecurity as he continued to struggle with his existence.

The group was seated at the long formica table, a piece of furniture Sehun and Jongin had carried home two years ago, gushing with excitement that they had found the thing discarded on the side of the road. It was perfect mostly because it was long, the only place where all eleven of them could sit comfortably without elbows and legs getting in the way. 

Yifan stared at his dinner plate, chewing his bottom lip. Chanyeol was the best when it came to computers, he had more than one way to decrypt and hack into tightly secured databases. He had been the go-to person when it came to finding out information that was still housed by the pharmaceutical company’s benefactor, the files still existing even if the company had closed its doors shortly after they were rescued.

“Maybe he is just some random guy, we should probably leave him alone,” Sehun drawled from across the table, his fork idly shoving at his peas. Sehun was the youngest, having been a baby when he was subjected to the brutal experimentation. He had been adopted after they were rescued and lived with a real family for six years before his ability to summon a windstorm sent him into a string of foster homes. He liked to tease the others and was resolute to always get his way, which as the youngest seemed to happen more often than not. 

“Yeah, some normal guy who brings torrential downpours wherever he goes.” Baekhyun rolled his eyes at Sehun. Baekhyun was the most hyper of the bunch. He didn’t seem to have an off switch, which seemed to match his power of summoning light to a tee. When the others got quiet it was Baekhyun that kept the conversation flowing, his telltale smirk appearing as he kept everyone engaged. But he wasn’t all smiles, Yifan knew. Baekhyun appeared positively depressed at times, especially if he thought no one was looking at him. He had spent a few years in a psych ward, a memory he didn’t often like to talk about. 

“Well whatever he is, we aren’t doing a very good job of figuring it out,” Minseok cut in. Minseok,was the second oldest in the house. He had spent time in a psych ward after sending a shower of ice at a dog that was chasing him. A brunette man with a perpetual baby face that belied his serious nature, he was often the person Yifan counted on the most. 

“I need to find him,” Yifan said under his breath, his mind troubled as each search so far had been a dead end, a brief glimpse that always led to more questions than answers. 

“How are you going to do that?” Sehun asked, tilting his head to the side and observing the de-facto leader of their family. 

Yifan smiled at the youngest, but didn’t answer. 

“Really?!” Tao blurted out. “Am I the only one that thinks that is a terrible idea?!”

“What am I missing?” Jongin asked, looking confused, which wasn’t a surprise. Jongin could move between locations in the blink of an eye, a funny ability considering he was perpetually fatigued and often the last to get a joke. 

“Yes, you are. Because once he is gone we can raid the snacks he has hidden in his desk and probably find some money to go blow,” Baekhyun pointed out.

“Never mind. Have fun. Don’t get hit by a plane,” Tao rambled, his kittenish grin appearing. Tao had a strange ability to morph time, something no one quite understood. He was impulsive and overly emotional at times, but extremely loyal and kindhearted. He was thin and tall, and was often mistaken for weak but he was anything but. He bleached his hair and had more piercings in his ears than Yifan knew was possible, giving him the appearance of an edgy youth out looking for a fight. 

Yifan sighed. Family was wonderful.

 

 

 

It had been a while since he had felt the wind whip through his hair, stinging his face as he looked down upon the city. From his viewpoint Yifan saw the city as a snaking network of lights and people, a flowing, living creature that intertwined in a way that most people never realized. 

He had missed it in some ways, but in many ways it had been calming not to do this. There was a sense of danger here, an action that should not be undertaken unless absolutely necessary. A number of things could go wrong and had in the past, and on the top of the list was being noticed by other humans. Being caught in the middle of such superhuman activity wouldn’t bode well for him– any more than it bode well for Chanyeol when small fires trailed after him while he strolled through a city market. 

Yet, Yifan was inspired to live dangerously, and undertake something he had sworn he wouldn’t do again unless absolutely necessary. The desire to find the strange man with a sad look in his eyes and rain at his heels was enough reason for Yifan to climb to the rooftop of their building and take a leap– into the evening sky.

How was he going to find this stranger amidst the urban sprawl? How would an eagle’s eye view of the world help him to find what the others had missed? 

“The rain,” Yifan had explained when Yixing had questioned him. “I will follow the rain.”

Yixing had nodded, accepting the answer with a small smile. It wasn’t like the freak rain storms were something they could find on a radar, not when they came and went with the stranger– as unannounced and unexpected as his existence itself. 

Yifan set out and followed the river that ran through the city. He was looking for the dark clouds that signaled rain, the sudden appearance of a storm front that would baffle the most sophisticated of meteorological equipment. 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before he spotted the dark cloud forming, an abnormal manifestation that was hard to miss when you were almost eye level with it. Yifan sucked in a breath of cold air and headed for the darkness, his heart rate picking up as he realized this might be it. He might finally find him.

As Yifan approached he could see that the rains were coming in thick sheets, large beads of precipitation pounding the concrete below. He maneuvered lower, an action that Luhan had one asked him about. “But how do you fly? I mean, how do you go up and down and–”

“How do you throw things at Jongdae’s head when you get mad?” Yifan had countered. 

“I just do,” Luhan shrugged. He never asked again. 

Yifan slowed his progress to a crawl as he reached the edge of the rain cloud. He scanned the rooftops, the sidewalks, and the streets hoping to see – to feel– someone that wasn’t the average pedestrian, the average office worker, or the average shopkeep. 

“Come on,” Yifan muttered under his breath, heading into the pounding rains with his head down. It was less than a minute before his blonde hair was plastered to his forehead, his clothing sticking to his body as he was completely drenched in the downpour. 

The rain was making it hard to see, causing Yifan to move even lower, daring to hover only yards above the rooftops as he searched. The honking of a horn, the skidding of tires, and an angry shout made Yifan look to his left. 

He witnessed a minor accident and a case of road rage. It didn’t involve the man he was looking for, but it did lead Yifan straight to him. 

He was standing on the sidewalk behind the accident, yet he ignored the commotion and stared straight ahead. While people skirted around him with their umbrellas out or their briefcases over their heads, desperate to stay dry, he stood motionless staring out towards the road. 

His chestnut colored hair was flat against his skull, his grey wool coat was blotched with moisture. He wore a long grey scarf, the fabric blowing idly with the light wind as it became increasingly weighted down by the rain. His dark jeans were waterlogged, his pale face marred by pink from the raindrops that hammered into his skin. 

Two thoughts bombarded Yifan’s mind as he spotted the man. Firstly, he was breathtaking. His features were well formed, exceedingly handsome, but they were painted in a wild light as he stood in the pouring rain. The effect was an aura of untamed beauty that took Yifan’s breath away. 

The second thought, and by far the most important, was that the sadness that clung to this man was most definitely familiar in some way that Yifan could not pinpoint– and the fact convinced Yifan that there was a very good chance that this stranger shared some of the same past that he and the others did. 

Yifan landed on a rooftop, and spotting a fire ladder on the side of the building he carefully descended to street level. He didn’t care that he was chilled to the bone and soaking wet. His main concern was reaching the stranger before he could disappear again. 

When Yifan exited the long alleyway that ran alongside the building he found himself standing across the street from the man, and for a brief moment their eyes locked. Recognition, Yifan thought. He feels it too. 

Traffic was buzzing by, swerving to avoid the accident in the middle of the road, creating a chaotic movement that blurred in between them. Yifan couldn’t run across the street with the steady flow, a disparaging fact that had him rushing for the crosswalk half a block away. He tried to keep looking back at the man every few seconds, terrified he would disappear before Yifan reached him. 

The crosswalk changed the moment Yifan reached it, the sign to walk flashing as he ran across the pavement as fast as he could. He jogged down the sidewalk after reaching the other side, his eyes trained on the man. The rain continued to pour down, and the man continued to stare towards the road. 

When Yifan was within a hundred feet of him, the stiff and unmoving posture of the man crumpled, his body falling to the sidewalk as if his legs had been kicked out from under him. Yifan let out a strangled sound of fear, running to the man and scooping him up from the ground. 

He had found him, but now, as he looked at the man’s prone and lifeless body, he wondered if he was too late? The man was taking shallow breaths, his face flushed as he remained eerily motionless. And then the rains stopped, disappearing as quickly as they had come. 

“He’s one of us,” Yifan whispered as he hailed a cab, the man hugged tightly to his chest. 

 

 

 

 

“How is he?” Yifan asked Yixing the moment he left the room, closing the door softly behind him. He had brought the stranger back home, taking him into the only spare bedroom in the place. Yixing was hot on his heels, ready to examine the man lest he was injured. 

Yixing was the fourth in terms of age hierarchy, an old soul who possessed an ability that fit his personality perfectly. He could take away pain, assuming illness and hurt on himself with nothing more than a comforting touch. He sported a mop of messy black hair, oftentimes hanging in front of his eyes as he tried to concentrate on the latest book he picked up from the used bookstore down the road. When he smiled a prominent dimple appeared, giving him a kind and staid appearance. He was the go to healer of the group, a man who Yifan trusted implicitly. 

“He isn’t injured, at least not that I can tell.” Yixing dragged his hand through his long hair, looking towards the door. “You said he just fell?”

Yifan nodded. 

“I took off his wet clothes and gave him some of mine. I didn’t see any visible injuries nor did I sense anything internal. It looks like he fainted, but why, I’m not sure.” Yixing pursed his lips. “We should probably keep an eye on him just in case.”

“Of course.” Yifan walked towards the door, ready to keep watch over the unconscious man.

“Should I tell the others?” Yixing asked before Yifan could dart into the room. 

Yifan hesitated. Yixing had been the only one to see him carry the man in, the others were probably out shopping / charging up Yifan’s credit card. “Not yet,” he said quietly. “I want to talk to him first.”

He opened the door slowly, afraid he would startle the man. He exercised equal caution when closing the door behind him. He walked slowly to the bedside, his bare feet not making much noise as he crept towards the armchair that sat next to the bed. 

Yixing had pulled the white comforter up around the man’s chest, tucking it under his chin. He was lying flat on his back, his hair still damp and his skin still tinged pink. He looked peaceful, almost like a small child sleeping – not a care in the world. 

Yifan sat, the minutes turning into an hour, then two. He was about to fetch Yixing again when the man began to stir, his arms shifting as he let out a groan. Yifan moved forward, perching on the edge of the seat.

The gentle stirring turned into thrashing a few seconds later, the man flailing his arms as he bolted upright. He began to make strangled sounds of panic, somewhere between a scream and a pained groan. 

“You’re safe, you’re safe!” Yifan reached forward and tried to grab the man’s flailing arms, but that sent him into more of a panic. He tried to get out of Yifan’s hold, struggling with his eyes wide. 

“Stop, please, I won’t hurt you.” Yifan was stronger than the man, easily pinning him back down on the bed. It wasn’t an ideal introduction, but Yifan was afraid that if he left the man to thrash about he might hurt himself. 

The man looked at Yifan, letting out a low whimper as his body relaxed. Thankfully he settled down, allowing Yifan to loosen his grip on the man’s arms. 

“If I let you go, will you stay calm?” Yifan asked quietly, wondering if the others had heard the commotion. 

The man nodded but his expression remained one of fear. Yifan removed his hands slowly, stepping away from the bed. 

“You fainted, so I brought you here,” he explained, suddenly remembering the glass of water Yixing had left next to the bed. “If you are thirsty, um, here.” Yifan gestured towards the glass, keeping his distance in case the man frightened again. 

The stranger looked at the glass for a brief second before he grabbed it with both hands and chugged it down, looking half wild as a small stream of water missed his mouth and dribbled down his chin. 

When he finished the glass he brought it down hard on the side table, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“My name is Yifan,” he said dumbly, clasping his hands together in an awkward stance. He tilted his head to the side, observing the strange man. 

“Junmyeon,” he rasped, clearing his throat and then speaking again. “My name is Junmyeon.”

Junmyeon. Yifan hated that his first thought was that it was an exceedingly nice name for an exceedingly nice looking man. “Junmyeon, where are you from?”

Junmyeon blinked a few times, then furrowed his brow. The crease in his forehead deepened as he appeared to be deep in thought. After almost a solid minute of contemplation he spoke. “I...can’t remember.”

Yifan hadn’t expected this. Or maybe he had, which is why he was looking for Junmyeon for the last two weeks. He was a mystery, a puzzle, and finding him seemed to only increase the number of pieces that Yifan had to fit together. “What is the last thing you remember?”

Junmyeon’s tongue swiped his bottom lip as he thought. Before he verbalized his last memory the temperature in the room noticeably changed. 

Yifan had only a second to register that something was going on before the rain began to pour, soaking the carpet in seconds. 

“I remember the rain,” Junmyeon said softly, burying his head in his hands.

 

 

 

 

“It is ruined!” Sehun held up his PSP, which was now sporting water running out of the areas around the buttons. He pouted, then glared at Yifan for a brief moment before tossing the device in the garbage.

“Why did you put it in the guest room?” Yifan asked gruffly. “If it was so important to you why was it in the room no one ever goes in.”

Sehun didn’t answer, but he kept his pout in place as he went back to pressing towels into the soaked carpeting. . 

Yifan had spent the last half hour assuring Junmyeon that it was okay he had flooded the room, breezing over the how and what of his abilities as he ushered the newcomer to Kyungsoo. 

Kyungsoo could move earth at will, which greatly contradicted his demure build. He was soft spoken and preferred to be alone, something that Yifan could appreciate given some of the personalities in the house. Kyungsoo had always been the best at controlling his abilities, and he had often helped the others learn a thing or two about self-control back in the early days. Yifan hoped he could do the same with Junmyeon, whether they had actually talked about his abilities or not. 

The guest room was waterlogged, which meant there was a lot of cleaning to do. As the others had arrived back at the house, shopping bags in hand, Yifan had herded them to help. 

“We should probably cover the room in plastic,” Chanyeol muttered under his breath, tossing a heavy wet towel into the bucket that sat in the middle of the floor. 

Yifan grunted in agreement, not really paying attention. He was too busy wondering how Junmyeon was doing with Kyungsoo. Had he flooded another room? Was he remembering anything?

“I still don’t get how he is one of us but we don’t remember him,” Jongdae mused. “Seems suspicious if you ask me.” Jongdae had a mouth on him, one that didn’t often stop moving, though his rants were different than Baekhyun’s jabber. Yifan often wondered if his ability of summoning thunder might be tied to how loud he was, because while Baekhyun could talk for hours, Jongdae could talk over everyone for just as long. He had one of the halfway decent backgrounds out of all of them – he had only been in two foster homes and apart from being kicked out of school he had a relatively stable upbringing. But man did he love to whine and question things. 

“Right,” Baekhyun agreed.

Suspicious? Perhaps a little, Yifan considered. But it wasn’t like they were privy to everything that the pharmaceutical company had done, despite Chanyeol’s frequent searches of their records. They very well could have had another test group, subjected to the same drug. 

“Are we keeping him?” Jongdae asked, waving his hand in front of Yifan’s face to get his attention. 

Yifan snapped out of his thoughts. “I um, yeah. If he wants to stay.”

Jongdae didn’t say anything but he very noticeably narrowed his eyes before returning to his cleaning. 

Yifan didn’t want to deal with blatant hostility towards the new guy, not after Yifan had spent so long looking for him. He finished mopping up the square foot of carpeting in front of him and then left to go find Junmyeon. 

 

 

 

 

Kyungsoo immediately remarked on Junmyeon’s overall adaptability, praising the stranger to Yifan the moment he walked in the door. “I barely told him how I control my abilities and he had already practically mastered it.” Kyungsoo was perplexed but noticeably impressed.

Junmyeon, it seemed, was a quick learner all around. As the evening arrived he was walking the halls of the house like he had been there for years, and that night, when he spotted the model Yifan had been working on in the study, he sat down and began to put it together. 

Yifan trailed after Junmyeon as he walked from room to room, not wanting to push him into trying to remember but too afraid to leave him alone. He marveled at the way the man seemed to relax, his powers under control as he wandered the house, speaking easily with the others as he encountered them. By nightfall it was like he had always lived there.

“How are you so good at this?” Yifan asked, sitting next to Junmyeon as he slotted a tiny wooden model piece into place. 

Junmyeon set the model down on the table, shrugging as he leaned back. “I don’t remember.”

Of course he didn't. Yifan mentally chided himself for inadvertently bringing up his memory loss. But then again, he was curious, and they had to talk about it at some point. They needed to address the other elephant in the room, which was Junmyeon’s powers, and doing it sooner rather than later would probably be the best approach. Junmyeon seemed calm now, not about to thrash around or panic– it was time Yifan took a chance. 

“You really can’t remember anything?” he asked, making eye contact as he turned his body towards Junmyeon. 

Junmyeon shook his head. “No, I don’t remember anything. I wish I did.” Junmyeon sighed. “I can’t understand though, I mean– I know how to do things. I think I remember how to drive a car, how to tie my shoes, how to ride a bike. But I can’t remember how I know them or where I learned. And I can’t remember why I’m…”

“Different?” Yifan finished for him. 

Junmyeon nodded. “I know this isn’t normal, the rain. But why do I know this isn’t normal?” He looked expectantly at Yifan.

Yifan leaned forward, tenting his fingers together he glanced towards the table and the half-finished model. “As you noticed none of us in the house are what you would call normal. We were all exposed to a chemical at a young age which left us like this. I’m guessing that you were exposed too.”

“A chemical?” Junmyeon furrowed his brow. “What type of chemical?”

“A drug was tested on us when we were very young, apparently the side effects are these powers, whatever they are.” Yifan turned to the other man. “Junmyeon, I was looking for you because two weeks ago I first saw you and felt something, call it instinct or whatever, but I could tell you were like us.”

“Two weeks ago…” The crease in Junmyeon’s brow deepened. “What was I doing?”

So he really doesn’t remember anything, Yifan thought. Would he remember what happened today, tomorrow? Or was this some kind of ongoing memory loss, his mind never retaining more than a few hours at a time? If so this was an added complication.

“Two weeks ago you were walking outside a store I was in, the rain pouring down on you as you walked,” Yifan explained.

“I wish I could remember.” Junmyeon exhaled sharply then fell silent for a moment. “Yifan, can I– do you guys mind if maybe I stay here for a little while? I don’t have anywhere to go, and I want to figure out how to remember where I should be. I can cook and clean and do whatever you need. I don’t have money but–”

“It’s fine, we would be happy to have you.” Yifan smiled, hoping to put the other man at ease. He pushed the thought of the others protesting the new roommate out of his mind. It was his house after all, and the others needed to give Junmyeon a chance. 

“Thank you, Yifan. I won’t do anything to disappoint you.” Junmyeon offered his own small smile in return. His features brightened instantly, and the effect was a tad bit mesmerizing.

Yifan eyes lingered on the corners of Junmyeon’s lips, his smile giving him a brightness that Yifan hadn’t noticed. Junmyeon was, Yifan realized for the umpteenth time that day, a very attractive man. 

 

 

 

 

The amazing self-control and adaptability that Junmyeon showed on the first day he was in the house proved not to be a constant, as evidenced by the three times he flooded his bedroom in his first week at the house. He apologized profusely and offered to leave, but Yifan would have none of it (even if some of the others seemed more than a little happy about the idea of Junmyeon vacating the premises). 

Yifan assured Junmyeon that accidents happen, and that all of them had taken a while to learn how to control their abilities. Junmyeon didn't look convinced of the fact, but he stopped apologizing every second. 

Yifan spent a lot of time with the man, just sitting with him in the study or talking with him about what was on television. It was simple, unburdened discussion. It didn’t lead to Junmyeon remembering anything, nor did it inform Junmyeon about Yifan and the others. But it was a start, and Yifan found that he was enjoying Junmyeon’s company.

He was enjoying seeing the man’s sadness start to slip away the most, he realized it every time Junmyeon laughed at one of his lame jokes. It was like he was an entirely different person those moments when his melancholy was replaced by a toothy smile. 

It was on Junmyeon’s fifth day in the house he turned the discussion back towards his past. “I was thinking, maybe if I try to go some places, parks or buildings or whatever, it will jog my memory.”

Yifan hesitated for a moment before responding. If Junmyeon wandered the city there was a good chance he might unleash his abilities, which would likely attract unwanted attention. Of course if Junmyeon wasn’t alone then his companion could potentially get him out of a bad situation. “I can go with you.” Yifan wasn’t offering, he was telling. 

Junmyeon readily agreed. “Thanks, Yifan, for helping me.”

Yifan ignored the way his chest tightened at Junmyeon’s words. 

 

 

 

 

“You really don’t think this whole thing is odd?” Luhan stood against the kitchen counter, his arms folded across his chest. He leaned left or right when Minseok reached past him to get one of the spices that were located on the windowsill. Luhan, whose jovial nature and hyper personality did not often betray a painful past, was consistent in two things. One, he never failed to use his ability to levitate objects to his own benefit and often the detriment of whoever pissed him off, and two he was always in Minseok’s company.

Yifan stiffened. “No, I don’t think it’s odd. You guys need to give him a chance.” 

He had walked into the kitchen to find Minseok frying up hash browns, Luhan, his usual shadow, watching him. Yifan had been blindsided when Luhan took the opportunity to voice his suspicions regarding the new roommate. 

“It _is_ a bit weird that he just showed up, and none of us remember him,” Minseok remarked from his place in front of the stove.

Yifan sighed. “Guys, we are all a bit suspicious. He hasn’t done anything to make you guys not trust him, so how about you quit it.”

“Hmm. So trust him until he backstabs us, got it,” Luhan hummed.

Yifan groaned in frustration. He loved the ten guys he lived with, they were as much of a family as he had ever had. Yet they could annoy him to no end. “He is staying and that’s final. Buck up and get used to it.”

Yifan stormed out of the kitchen, stopping short when he almost ran into Junmyeon in the hallway. The man had a worried look on his face, he had clearly overheard their conversation. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” Yifan had stopped by the kitchen to grab a water before he left with Junmyeon to explore the city. After the conversation he just had he thought it was high time to commence their journey. 

“I am not sur–“Junmyeon started, but Yifan interrupted him.

“We can talk about it as we walk. Come on.” Yifan wouldn’t take no for an answer, walking towards the door. Junmyeon followed behind, a sad look on his face.

 

 

 

 

“So that is how we ended up together,” Yifan sucked in a deep breath as he finished telling Junmyeon as much of his past as he could without droning on for hours. “I know they are suspicious by nature, but you seem to be just as much a victim as us, so they need to let it go.”

Junmyeon had remained silent as they walked, listening to Yifan’s story with his hands in his pockets. They had walked quite a ways from the house, down winding streets, into a few neighborhoods Yifan hadn’t been in for years. 

“But if you guys were all together, I mean at that children’s home, where did I come from?” Junmyeon asked quietly. 

“That is what we need to figure out,” Yifan answered. He was hoping this walk would jog Junmyeon’s memories, but one ramble around the city doing the trick was a whole lot of wishful thinking. 

“You’re a really kind person, Yifan.” 

Yifan felt his cheeks grow warm at the compliment, which happened simultaneously with his left foot getting caught on the uneven sidewalk. He stumbled forward, managing to catch himself before he fell on his face. 

Junmyeon giggled at his clumsiness, making Yifan’s face flame brighter. 

“I uh– stupid sidewalk,” he mumbled, trying to regain his composure. His clumsy nature was well known to the others, but this was the first time he had almost made a total fool of himself in front of Junmyeon– and somehow it felt different than the times he fell on his butt in front of Kyungsoo or Tao. 

“So what can you do? Your special thing...” Junmyeon asked, seeming to notice that Yifan was mortified and ready to hide. 

“It is a bit weird to say, I’ll show you sometime.” After all these years Yifan was still embarrassed to blurt out ‘I can fly’.

“Is that a promise?” Junmyeon looked at Yifan, his eyebrow raised slightly in question.

“Yeah.” Yifan looked away, the sight of Junmyeon’s bright eyes and handsome face twisting his insides.

They continued walking for another couple of hours, stopping once to get coffee and dropping into a few shops along the way. Nothing seemed to jog Junmyeon’s memory, so when the sun began to set they took a taxi cab back home. 

Yifan found the house unusually quiet when they entered, considering it was around dinner time. When he walked into the kitchen he found a note on the fridge. 

_Went out for dinner. Be back later._

Yifan sighed as he pulled the paper from under the magnet. It was Luhan’s messy handwriting and he had little doubt that their discussion that afternoon had facilitated the group leaving for the meal they usually all shared together. 

“Where is everyone?” Junmyeon asked as he walked into the kitchen.

“They must have went out for dinner.” Yifan tried to sound casual about it as he crumpled the note in his hand. 

 

 

 

“The news said there is a meteor shower tonight, do you think we can see it from the front windows?” Junmyeon asked, sounding overtly hopeful.

They had just eaten a meal of ramen, Yifan amazing himself that he didn't burn the house down as he fiddled with the stove. Now he was busy doing dishes, while Junmyeon wandered into the living room to tidy up. The others were still gone, which was continuing to grate on Yifan’s nerves. 

“It is probably too hazy to see it,” Yifan answered over his shoulder as he finished washing the last piece of silverware. 

“Oh.” 

Yifan knew he shouldn’t have even thought of it, because it was risky and just plain stupid. But the way Junmyeon’s excitement died coupled with the way the others were treating the man made Yifan want to make things up to him. 

“There’s another way we could see it, but we have to be careful. It’s kind of dangerous.” Yifan chewed on his bottom lip, half expecting Junmyeon to turn him down.

“I would love to, I mean as long as we don’t die or anything.” Apparently Junmyeon really wanted to see this meteor shower. 

After the dishes were done Yifan led Junmyeon to the roof, making sure that both of them were bundled up before leaving the house. Junmyeon didn’t ask questions as they climbed the stairs, which made Yifan curious if the man trusted him that much or was simply afraid too many questions would annoy him. 

When they reached the roof Yifan realized the only way this was going to work was Junmyeon all but latching onto him– and while that thought was attractive in a way he wasn’t sure Junmyeon would feel the same. 

“We kind of have to hug for this to work,” Yifan stuttered, feeling awkward and slightly embarrassed. 

Junmyeon didn’t make a move to indicate that the thought was uncomfortable to him. When Yifan held his arms wide, Junmyeon easily slipped his arms around the taller man’s torso, holding tight. 

“You might want to hold onto my neck, um better grip.” Yifan cleared his throat and looked away. When Junmyeon reached for him, twining his fingers together as he grasped Yifan’s neck, Yifan placed his hands around Junmyeon’s thin waist, palms pressed into his back.

“Ready?”

Junmyeon nodded, finally showing signs of fear as his eyes went wide. 

Yifan had never done this with another person, it was risky enough as it is with just himself. In some ways he was happy that the others were gone or he probably would have gotten an earful over doing something so foolish. 

He lifted them up slowly. The moment their feet left the ground Junmyeon made a small noise of surprise and tightened his hold. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” Yifan looked skyward, hoping there wouldn't be any surprises waiting for him in the hazy night sky. He shuddered thinking of the small plane he almost collided with years back. 

As they climbed higher, into the haze and then out of it, Junmyeon remained quiet. He turned his head, burying his cheek against Yifan’s chest. 

Yifan could smell the faint scent of shampoo as Junmyeon’s hair tickled his face. Junmyeon felt so small in his arms, his thin body pressed against Yifan’s much larger one. He feels fragile, Yifan thought, gripping him tighter just in case. It brought out the protective instinct in him, the need to see this person taken care of. He felt like this with the other ten men, the need to protect, to do well by them. Yet, if he was being honest, this tug at his heartstrings had a subtle difference, a dangerous difference. 

When they broke out of the haze Junmyeon gasped, the stars coming fully into view high above the city. “I never realized the sky was that polluted.”

The meteor shower was in full view as they hovered above the teeming metropolis. Yifan felt warmth pool in his middle as he observed Junmyeon watching the celestial show, lips slightly parted and eyes wide. It was like they existed in their own little world, far from the chaos of civilization– a place only they knew, a place where nothing else could touch them. 

“This is seriously amazing.” Junmyeon turned his head away from the stars for a few seconds to share his gratitude. “Thank you for doing this.”

It was only the briefest of moments that their eyes met, but it was enough for Yifan to look away and shyly tell Junmyeon it was nothing. 

The meteor shower was breathtaking, the streaking silver lines crossing across the inky night sky. The air was cold at this height, tinging both of their cheeks pink as they watched the celestial show in silence. 

After a few minutes Yifan really couldn’t hold on any longer, Junmyeon was thin but he was still an adult male. “We need to get down.”

Junmyeon nodded, burying his face against Yifan’s jacket once again. When they reached the rooftop Junmyeon slipped away, smiling. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” Yifan watched him go, spending a few minutes alone on the rooftop thinking. And whether he liked it or not, his thoughts were dominated by a man who came with the rain. A man who took Yifan’s breath away as they hovered in the night sky, infinitely more interesting to him than a meteor shower. 

 

 

 

When Yifan rolled into bed an hour later, he was still thinking about the newcomer. But this time he was focused on how he was being treated by the others. 

Yifan was trying not to admit to himself how much the others’ rejection of Junmyeon stung, and maybe a lot of that had to do with the feeling they were, in the process, rejecting Yifan as well.

“This is stupid,” Yifan muttered under his breath, rolling over in his king size bed and fumbling in the dark to find Ace, the stuffed animal he slept with every night (and ceremoniously denied having when the others teased him about it). It wasn’t like they were really rejecting him, he was being a bit dramatic about the whole thing. But it was in his nature to overreact and he knew it, even if he never wanted to admit it.

“They should be nice to Junmyeon,” Yifan whispered into the stuffed toy, knowing that he was right on this one. The others needed to give Junmyeon a chance. 

 

Junmyeon was extremely quiet the next day and Yifan chalked most of that up to how the others were pointedly ignoring him like he was the plague. It was like each day that passed made the others distrust Junmyeon more and more, making him feel more of a pariah. Even normally easy going and friendly Jongin stayed away from him, cutting a wide path in the hallway when he saw Junmyeon coming from the other direction. The smiles that Junmyeon had shown the night before were gone as one after another the others snubbed him. 

Yifan watched in anger. If he could have rounded all ten of the other guys up and lectured them he would have, but at this time of day half of them were out working, while the other half were god-knows-where. 

The dam of anger that Yifan was holding onto finally burst later that night, when he walked into the study and found the bookshelves devoid of files. He roared for the others, and when Junmyeon appeared first with a worried look on his face, Yifan asked him to leave. 

“Did I do something wrong?” Junmyeon asked, clearly afraid. 

“No, but the others did and I need to talk to them alone.” Yifan patted Junmyeon reassuringly on the back before shooing him out of the room.

It was a full five minutes before everyone was crowded into the study, their gazes a mixture of annoyance and barely disguised anxiety. 

“Files,” Yifan growled, pointing towards the empty bookshelf.

“I thought it was best if we kept them hidden, since we don’t know who might be looking at them,” Chanyeol spoke first. 

Yifan set his mouth in a straight line. “Why are you all being so difficult with Junmyeon? He isn’t here to hurt you!”

“Are you really asking us that?” Jongdae spoke up. “Why we aren’t trusting him? Isn’t that obvious?”

Yifan balled his hands into fists without realizing it, the anger making him tense. “He’s one of us! How can you not accept this?!”

“And how can you accept it so easily?” Minseok, the last person who Yifan thought would speak up about the issue, stepped forward. “Yifan, we all know you mean well, we do. And we love you, you’re the one who brought us all here. But just letting someone in like this, trusting them with everything, it’s too much for us.”

“So you want me to kick him out?” Yifan asked through gritted teeth. 

Minseok shook his head. “We just want you to be more careful. Don’t let him see things he shouldn’t. Don’t tell him more than you should. And well,” Minseok looked over to Chanyeol, “we should do our own research into his past.”

“I already started looking for his identity,” Chanyeol informed the group. “I haven’t found anything, but we should do our due diligence to make sure he is who he says he is. While he stays here we should exercise caution.”

“I thought you all wanted me to kick him out.” Yifan was slightly dumbfounded, considering the hostility he had witnessed. 

“Well, we aren’t saying that isn’t a good idea, but we also know if we beg you to do that we turn into giant hypocrites,” Kyungsoo remarked from his spot near the door. “So instead let’s just say that he can stay but we need to be careful.”

“Is this why you guys went to dinner together, to talk about this?” The gears were turning in Yifan’s head. 

Baekhyun nodded. “We aren’t trying to make this difficult, but we don’t want anything else to happen...to any of us. You included.”

Yifan felt a wave of emotion overcome him, and for a moment he felt extremely guilty. Guilty that he had taken Junmyeon’s side– or at least the side of him staying– over the ten people he had worked so hard to find. And here they were, compromising as long as he was careful– because they wanted him to be safe. 

“Thanks guys, and yeah, we can be more careful.” His voice was low, a mirror of how small he suddenly felt. 

“Hey, big guy, you aren’t going to cry, are you?” Yixing stepped forward and with one jump he hooked Yifan’s neck under his arm. That led to a bout of whining from Yifan, followed by Tao and Sehun rushing him to further the teasing. 

After getting away from Yixing, Tao, and Sehun, Yifan left the room, telling everyone goodnight with the intention of going to find Junmyeon. He wasn’t sure how much Junmyeon knew about what the others had done, or if he was still worried about it. 

 

 

 

 

Yifan knocked softly on Junmyeon’s door. He could hear rustling inside the room, like Junmyeon was moving things around. When Junmyeon opened the door, Yifan saw past him to where a pile of clothing sat atop the bed, next to a suitcase. 

“You aren't–” The words died in Yifan’s throat. 

Junmyeon walked over to the bed, his shoulders going lax as he kept his head low. He wouldn't look at YIfan. “I just don’t want to be a burden, “ Junmyeon said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He looked so frail, so weak and indecisive as he stood in front of the half full suitcase. 

Yifan felt like his mouth had been filled with molasses. He wanted to protest the very idea of Junmyeon being a burden, but the words wouldn’t come out. He watched as Junmyeon tossed some of the clothing Yixing had given him into the suitcase, his mind a blur. Yifan struggled to vocalize what he wanted to say, but finally he found the words. 

“Don’t go.” His voice sounded distant. 

Junmyeon hesitated, a pair of folded pants in his hands. He stared down into the suitcase, looking utterly dejected and afraid. 

“I–just stay.” Junmyeon walking out of the house gave Yifan a measure of fear, of a panic he didn’t know he would feel. They had known each other for such a short time, yet Yifan was definitely attached. And perhaps that is what he didn’t want to admit to himself, that he liked having Junmyeon around and maybe some of the reasons he liked the man went beyond the similarities they shared in terms of their powers. Maybe, he considered for a split second, he liked him. Not to mention he looked so unsure, so sad, that Yifan had a deep desire to protect him. 

“W-why?” Junmyeon asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“Because I want you to.” It sounded so sappy that Yifan wanted to punch himself. Instead he added, “We talked things through and the others want you to stay too. And you don’t have your memories back yet, so I think it is best if you live here for a while.”

Junmyeon tilted his head to the side, observing the taller man for a few seconds. He still looked shaky, emotional, and devoid of confidence. “Are you sure about this?”

Yifan nodded. “Really. The others were just being cautious, and I think we both know that makes sense. I’m sorry if you were uncomfortable, but please, stay.”

“Okay, I’ll stay.”

Yifan felt relief flood over him. And like that he pushed the possibility he liked Junmyeon in a romantic way out of his mind, or more specifically to a locked and sealed place where he could pretend such feelings didn’t exist. Because it was all a very unnecessary complication. 

 

 

 

 

When Yifan staggered downstairs the next morning, sporting a bad case of bedhead, he could scarcely believe his eyes– or more accurately, ears. 

“That is so cool!” He could hear Luhan talking in the kitchen. Following the noise he stopped at the threshold, extremely confused. 

“Minseok, isn’t that cool?” Luhan pulled Minseok towards the counter. The man nodded enthusiastically before dodging a push from Jongdae, who was jockeying for the same spot. Kyungsoo was there too, alongside Jongin, Tao, and Sehun. Baekhyun and Chanyeol were standing a few feet away, equally mesmerized. 

Their attention was drawn to the man who stood on the counter top, a bright smile on his face as the others watched him, seemingly hypnotized.

Junmyeon stood over a line of glasses, each filled with water. With a simple glance he had them playing musical notes, the strains of Nirvana’s Smells Like Teen Spirit echoing through the kitchen as water jumped from glass to glass.

“Yifan.” Junmyeon noticed him standing in the doorway. He stopped and nodded to him, the wide smile never leaving his face.

“Morning,” Yifan grunted, walking into the kitchen and towards the fridge. He couldn’t help but smirk as the others bombarded Junmyeon with questions, finally helping him off the counter and surrounding him like he was the coolest toy on Christmas morning. 

“Dude, he can play everything by Radiohead!” Chanyeol reported enthusiastically. Yifan had an inkling that this was all a setup to get Junmyeon to feel welcome- and bury the hatchet of his cold reception– but if it was he wouldn’t dare get annoyed by it. Making the new guy feel at home by showering him with 1990s alternative rock praise was a great idea. Yifan was sure one of the other guys had gotten him to do this, all so they could make his newfound acceptance extremely apparent. 

“Does that mean he can stay?” Yifan dared ask, looking pointedly at Chanyeol and Luhan– the two who had protested Junmyeon’s presence the most. 

Luhan opened his mouth and then closed it, unable to say anything. 

“Yeah, but if he turns out to be some psycho I am totally blaming you,” Chanyeol said, his eyes never leaving Junmyeon. 

 

 

 

 

Now that the others were more accepting of Junmyeon, Yifan found himself with a new problem. He never had a second to talk to the man alone, not without one of his ten new friends taking up his attention. It was a double-edged sword, having Junmyeon find acceptance among the group. Yifan was happy for him, happy that the turmoil in the house had dissipated as quickly as it had come. But at the same time he wanted to help Junmyeon to remember his past, needed him to in fact– because that past was irrevocably tied to Yifan’s own in some way. It was eating at him, the truth of this man, and not being able to wander the city with him on memory finding rambles was frustrating him.

He finally found Junmyeon alone a few days after he had gained his sudden acceptance. Yifan took the opportunity to blurt out “We should go for a walk,” not really asking, more telling. 

Junmyeon nodded, looking excited at the prospect. Or maybe Yifan imagined it. There was, he very well knew, an edge to his frustration that he didn’t care to recognize. That not having time to spend with Junmyeon was mostly about helping the man remember, but was also partially about spending time alone with him. Not that he whispered his despair at zero-Junmyeon-alone-time into Ace’s fur or anything. 

They followed a different path this time, down streets that Yifan barely recognized. They took the subway at one point, going to one of the busier shopping districts in the hopes Junmyeon would remember something there. 

During the journey, Junmyeon was more talkative than usual. Yifan wondered if it was a product of his recent acceptance by the others. 

“Do you usually shop here?” Junmyeon gestured with his hands, holding out his arms as if to indicate he meant the entire shopping district, not a particular store. 

“Nah. I like to shop online.” More accurately he liked to spend way too much online on clothes he couldn’t find in the city, but minor details. 

“Oh, you are always dressed well I figured you would shop at a trendy area like this.” Junmyeon pouted. 

“You think I dress well?” Yifan asked, his chest swelling with pride that Junmyeon had noticed. 

“For a giant, yeah. You don’t look too shabby,” Junmyeon delivered the line with a straight face.

Yifan narrowed his eyes. “You’re spending too much time with Jongdae.”

Junmyeon laughed, the carefree sound far different from what Yifan was used to from this man. It had been gradual, the smiles, and the laughter. But it was something Yifan had pride in, easing the sadness away from Junmyeon. 

“Hey, I’m just happy any of them are talking to me.”

“Yeah, so am I,” Yifan added softly. “I mean they should have been talking to you from the beginning, sorry for the cold reception.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Yifan. They are their own people, you aren’t responsible for them. And I understand why they were suspicious, I just can’t believe me playing Creep on a line of cups was what convinced them I wasn’t a villain.”

“Hey, Radiohead is a powerful motivator.” Yifan couldn’t help but mirror Junmyeon’s smile. He felt a measure of comfort at what Junmyeon had said, that he wasn’t responsible. Because honestly he always felt responsible for the others, being the oldest and the one who brought them together. Sometimes it was nice to imagine that his sense of responsibility was misplaced, that they could do whatever they wanted and it wouldn’t fall to Yifan to clean up their mess. It was a nice dream, but not one that Yifan could accept as reality– even if it was Junmyeon with the million dollar smile telling him that. 

They walked in silence for a minute before Yifan asked, “Does any of this seem familiar to you?”

Junmyeon shook his head. “It is so frustrating not to know where I came from, or what I was doing.”

Yifan wished there was some magic switch he could flip on that would help Junmyeon, but he was lost as to what might help. Suddenly an idea occurred to him. “Maybe we should go back to where I first saw you.” Yifan mentally kicked himself. Why hadn’t he thought of this sooner?

“Hmm, that might help. It’s worth a shot,” Junmyeon hummed in agreement. 

They took the subway towards the spot where Yifan had first noticed Junmyeon, the spot where he had first felt that strange tugging at his chest, telling him that something was different about this man. When they arrived near the store, Junmyeon furrowed his brow and looked around. 

“Anything stick out?” Yifan asked hopefully. 

Junmyeon shook his head, a frown forming on his face. “I don’t remember ever being here, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Hey,” Yifan turned to the smaller man, bracing his hands on his shoulders, “It isn’t something you should ever be sorry for. You can’t help it.”

Junmyeon sighed. “But I can tell you are getting worried, I mean, you seem to be worried about it. Not that I know you well enough to say I know what your worried face looks like but–”

“Junmyeon,” Yifan cut off his ramble. “I am worried but that is because we are friends. And even if I’m worried, that doesn’t mean that I blame you or anything.”

“We’re friends?” Junmyeon asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Um, yeah. I mean unless you don’t want to be friends and–” it was Yifan’s turn to ramble. 

“No, no! I want to be friends!” Junmyeon cut him off. “I just guess I wasn’t sure we were since we haven’t known each other that long.”

“Friendship isn’t based on a timetable.” From where Yifan stood with his hands perched on Junmyeon’s shoulders, the man looked so small and fragile– a flashback to when they watched falling stars high above the city. Yifan was unusually tall, and he was used to towering over people. But looking down at Junmyeon, who was worried about friendships, about lost memories and confusing origins, and making Yifan worry, the height difference wasn’t the precipice. It was the way Junmyeon seemed so genuine. The way he was considerate and helpful, so easy to get along with even if he couldn’t remember anything about himself. It was the way he furrowed his brow and stared off into the distance when they walked, and the way he tried to smile when Yifan looked his way. It was the sadness mixed with the ease to please that made him seem so breakable, so ready to fall apart, so in need of someone to look after him. 

“Yifan,” Junmyeon said quietly. 

Yifan blinked a few times before realizing he had zoned out, staring into Junmyeon’s face as he remained stationary in front of him. In embarrassment he recoiled, pulling his hands away and awkwardly clearing his throat. “Sorry. We should get going.”

“You don’t need to be sorry either,” Junmyeon said as they turned to walk back towards the subway line. 

Yifan found that it was getting more difficult to pretend he didn’t feel something for Junmyeon. 

 

 

 

 

“I think I remember something.”

Yifan had been reading up on retrograde amnesia, his nose buried in a book. When Junmyeon interrupted him he looked up, blinking in confusion. “What?”

“I think I remember something,” Junmyeon repeated. He stood in front of Yifan, who was seated in one of the red chairs in the study. Junmyeon had his hands on his hips, the picture of confidence.

“You do! What is it?” Yifan snapped the book shut, excitement bubbling inside of him. 

Junmyeon swallowed, walking over to the nearby chair he took a seat. “It isn’t much, just a few images. I remember a place with a long white hall, white walls and doors to each side. But it was weird, one wall had a big painting of a garden. It was really bright. “

Yifan stilled. 

“Do you know what it means?” Junmyeon looked at Yifan hopefully. 

“It sounds like the place where we were kept,” Yifan answered quietly. “When we were experimented on. But I don’t remember a painting.”

Junmyeon’s face lit up. “So I might have been there!”

Yifan nodded. “Seems it is possible.”

“I’ll keep trying to remember.” Junmyeon stood up. “I need to tell the others.”

“Junmyeon.” Yifan stopped him before he left the room. “What were you doing when you remembered?”

“Nothing much, just looking out the window,” Junmyeon responded, leaving the room. 

Yifan sighed. Memory was a strange thing. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A week passed without Junmyeon regaining anymore memories. He was trying however, Yifan catching him looking out the window for long periods of time as though it would spur something like it had before. 

Junmyeon had become close to the youngest guys in the house, specifically Tao and Sehun. It was an odd trio, Yifan thought as he watched them play video games together, or (much to his surprise) bake together. When one evening Sehun announced it was movie night “because Junmyeon hasn’t seen Texas Chainsaw Massacre and that has to be remedied” the rest of the guys eagerly joined in. Well, except for Yifan, who went to the living room begrudgingly– horror movies weren’t really his thing. 

The living room was big, but with twelve adult males trying to find space to watch a movie the space quickly became crowded. Chanyeol, Baekhyun, and Jongdae claimed one couch, with Kyungsoo being pulled by Chanyeol to squish between them (with a very verbal protest from Kyungsoo). Minseok and Luhan sat on the floor, their backs to the side of the sofa. Yifan took one side of the loveseat, while Jongin and Yixing found a spot on the other sofa, sandwiched in between Tao and Sehun. When Junmyeon entered the room, the last to do so, he looked around and blinked in surprise. He scanned the room, his eyes landing on the very noticeable open spot next to Yifan. 

Yifan, meanwhile, had given the others a few choice looks over leaving the spot next to him open. He was about to ask them if he smelled bad or something when it occurred to him that meant Junmyeon would be sharing the loveseat with him. Suddenly he felt inexplicably nervous, his anxiety increasing when the man entered the room. 

“Last one gets to sit next to cry baby,” Jongdae barked, the others laughing and giving Yifan a knowing look. 

“Cry baby?” Junmyeon asked as he walked towards the love seat. 

Yifan felt the heat rise in his cheeks. “I am not a cry baby,” he protested. “I just don’t like really gory stuff.”

“Oh sorry, I meant to say pisses-his-pants-watching-1950s-dracula.” Jongdae smirked. 

Yifan was two seconds away from reaching over the coffee table and throttling Jongdae, but he stopped when Junmyeon said, “I um, don’t like them either. I think. I mean, it feels like it I probably don’t like them, but I don’t really remember.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he took a seat. “But Sehun and Tao insisted.” Junmyeon gave Yifan a small reassuring smile. “We can be scared together.”

Yifan smiled back dumbly, only stopping when the others began a chorus of “ohhhhhh”. Yifan’s cheeks turned beet red as he grumbled at Sehun to start the movie. Baekhyun put out the lights, a flick of his wrist towards the light switch doing the trick. 

As the movie started everyone got comfortable, shifting in their seats with their eyes glued to the television. Yifan noticed Minseok moving out of the corner of his eye, ending up with his back flush to Luhan’s chest as the other wrapped his arms around Minseok’s middle. He noticed Jongin leaning into Yixing, his leg tossed possessively over the other man’s. He had no doubt Chanyeol was probably losing a cuddling battle with Kyungsoo across the room, because that is usually what happened. 

And any other time Yifan would have barely registered that those in the house who were in a relationship were moving closer to each other. It happened, the PDA that made an appearance from time to time, especially when they were all gathered to watch a movie. Normal, not much to think about. Not as bad as the times Yifan had walked in on stuff he really did not want to see. 

Except Yifan couldn’t help but notice, and then, much to his chagrin, look at the inches that separated him from Junmyeon. It was crazy, stupid really, for him to be frowning at the fact that they were as far apart from each other as the loveseat would allow. It wasn’t like they were dating, hell, Yifan wasn’t even actively acknowledging his burgeoning crush. But for once, Yifan felt uncharacteristically lonely and needy. 

Yifan instantly forgot about his strange fascination with personal distance the moment the first gory scene occurred. The sight of fake blood and the villain rushing out to kill an unsuspecting character had Yifan bringing his hand to his eyes and letting out a very unmanly shriek. Sehun, Tao, and Baekhyun were laughing at him, but he didn’t care. Not when that was playing on the screen. Not when Junmyeon had scooted over and buried his head in Yifan’s shoulder. 

Wait– Junmyeon had buried his head on his shoulder?! Yifan went to move his hand away from his eyes, wanting to confirm the face pressed into him was Junmyeon (who else could it be) but the sound of a chainsaw had him squealing again. The man next to him let out an equally frightened noise and with the next blood curdling scream echoing from the television speakers, the two were clinging to each other for dear life. 

Sehun started to whine that Junmyeon was missing the best parts, which only made the man press himself into Yifan’s side with more force. The position was uncomfortable, Junmyeon’s elbow jabbing into Yifan’s ribs. Yifan had no other choice, he told himself, than to move his arm and pull Junmyeon close to him, avoiding the bony intrusion while keeping them both shielded from whatever horrible thing was happening on the screen. 

It also served to put their faces practically together, nose to nose as Yifan put his free hand up to block the view. 

“Seriously, if you guys are going to make out instead of watch the movie go to your room,” Luhan laughed, probably going slack jawed as he guffawed. He earned a ‘shhh’ from Chanyeol, barely audible over the sound of a chainsaw. 

Yifan managed to open his eyes finally, which was both a blessing and a horrible mistake. It was a mistake since Junmyeon had his eyes shut, which meant Yifan could stare at him freely. It was also a mistake because being this close to Junmyeon, his arm wrapped around the smaller man’s shoulders, holding him close, was not good for his mental fortitude. It was a blessing because he was staring so freely, because Junmyeon was so close. It was a double edged sword that hit him right in the gut. 

Junmyeon’s face was scrunched up as he his eyes were shut tightly. Yifan found his expression disarmingly cute. Too cute. Way too cute. 

When the gory scene ended, Junmyeon scooted back over to his side. If Yifan had felt lonely before it was now ten times worse having had Junmyeon next to him, and then having him move away. Yifan kept his arm on the back of the couch just in case, perhaps due to wishful thinking. He was beyond satisfied when during each bloody scene, Junmyeon would dart back into his arms. Beyond satisfied. Too satisfied.

And when the movie ended, half of the guys asleep, Yifan was left to give Junmyeon a small smile and mutter good night. Because spending any more time with Junmyeon would just be a lot of almost-acknowledging-something he didn’t want to think about. Like how his heartbeat increased and his chest tightened every time Junmyeon touched him. Or smiled at him. Or so much as looked at him. 

When he got back to his room he face-planted into his mattress. 

He wasn’t so sure he could keep denying, not when the feeling of Junmyeon, face pressed into his chest, was engraved in his mind. 

 

 

 

 

Yifan was two bites into his bowl of cereal when he heard the refrigerator door open. He was half asleep and not overly concerned with who was rummaging around, so he stayed put sitting on the stool by the breakfast bar. 

It had been difficult to sleep the night before, the memory of chainsaw noises and Junmyeon pushed into him– wait, that sounded wrong. Needless to say, he had a lot on his mind that he didn’t want to have on his mind. 

“Good morning.” Junmyeon took a seat on the stool next to Yifan’s, setting down a container of yogurt and a banana. 

Yifan smiled and nodded, mentally groaning that the person he was trying not to think about was now a few feet from him, the scent of body wash and shampoo invading his not-thinking-about-Junmyeon time.

They ate in silence for a minute before Junmyeon loudly cleared his throat. “I–I have a kind of strange question for you but I don’t know who else to ask.”

Yifan swallowed. Strange question? This didn’t sound good for his mental state. He turned to look at Junmyeon, immediately noting that the man looked embarrassed. 

Junmyeon leaned closer, causing Yifan to inch back. His move to get away didn’t deter Junmyeon, who began to whisper while sneaking glances at the door. “Are some of the guys here together? You know, as in together-together?”

Yifan blinked in confusion. Wait, what was Junmyeon asking? When he didn’t receive an answer, the smaller man backed off, mumbling, “None of my business, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Do you mean like dating?” Yifan was the one to lean in this time. 

Junmyeon nodded. 

“Yeah, some of them.” Yifan had thought Junmyeon would have figured that out by now, having been in the house for weeks. Minseok and Luhan especially were not afraid to make a lot of noise during certain activities, not to mention Jongin and Yixing’s propensity to make out when they thought no one else was around (which was true about half the time). Chanyeol and Kyungsoo were known to solve many a video game spat with actions not words, Yifan was seriously surprised Junmyeon hadn’t walked in on them before. 

“Oh.” Junmyeon stared at his yogurt. His reaction made an alarm go off in Yifan’s head. Was Junmyeon homophobic? Did it make him unconformable? Yifan hadn’t even considered as much, which was probably foolish of him. People still had prejudices this day and age, and it wasn’t unreasonable that Junmyeon could have them too, right or wrong. 

“Does it bother you?” Yifan tested the waters, needing to know. For reasons.

“No, not at all.” Junmyeon’s frown did not back up his words. “I just wasn’t sure if I was misunderstanding things.”

Yifan wanted to ask why his expression said otherwise, but he held back. They resumed eating, a minute of tense silence descending over them. 

“Can I ask you something more personal?” Junmyeon whispered. 

“Um, yeah. Sure.”

“Are you seeing anyone?” 

Yifan looked away from his cereal bowl, locking his eyes with Junmyeon’s. The man looked even more embarrassed now, his face flush as he waited for an answer. 

“No, I’m not.” He felt his chest tighten as Junmyeon smiled widely at his answer. Was it hope? Was he hopeful that Junmyeon was interested in him? This was bad, he shouldn’t be doing anything with Junmyeon other than helping the man to remember his past. 

“That’s good.” Junmyeon looked sheepish as he went back to eating his yogurt. Yifan continued to stare at him for longer than was necessary, his brain slow to process his response. That’s good, as in good because we should date good or good as in– Yifan couldn’t think of an alternative to why that was good. But somehow Junmyeon saying that was good made him happy. And frustrated. Because he really shouldn’t be thinking about how kissable Junmyeon’s lips looked. Or how handsome he was, even with messy morning hair. Or how he fit so perfectly next to him. Or how–

“Yifan!” A shout from the living room tore Yifan away from his Junmyeon-infused reverie. It was Kyungsoo and he sounded upset. 

Yifan hurried to find out what was wrong, Junmyeon trailing after him. When he entered the living room he found Kyungsoo, Jongdae, Luhan, and Jongin crowded around the television, eyes trained on the screen. 

“What is it?” Yifan walked towards the couch as Kyungsoo, remote in hand, turned the volume up. When he caught sight of what was on the screen he froze, unable to move. 

_“The drug has passed the first round of safety tests and has proved effective in clinical trials. Market analysts predict that once the drug is released, the stock value of Choroksaek will rise a minimum of 200% due to anticipated revenues.”_

The news anchor rattled off the facts, but what Yifan was looking at was the man seated in the chair beside her, a smug look on his face. His hair was slicked back, his skin tan and smooth. He looked sinister, even more so than he did twenty years ago. 

“Dr. Lee is the chairman of Choroksaek Pharmaceuticals and has agreed to an interview. Thank you, Doctor, for being here.”

That smile. Those hands, which Yifan could recall holding a needle. Those eyes, wrinkled at the corners now, used to watch them with great interest. He was the son of the man who owned the company that had experimented on them, a sadistic man who took joy in their pain.

“How did he–” Jongin’s words died, unable to vocalize the confusion he was feeling. 

Yifan watched in disgust as the man lauded the newest product. Dr. Lee, who Yifan knew only as Doc, but would have recognized anywhere. The man who had run the company who made them like this, and was, apparently, about to get rich off a new pharmaceutical. He should be in prison, rotting away for what he had done to them. Instead he was on a morning talk show, trading easy smiles for stellar publicity. 

“I thought he was in jail…” Kyungsoo sounded scared. 

“We have to stop him,” Yifan said through gritted teeth. “We are going to stop him.”

The others agreed quietly, all still reeling in shock. 

 

 

 

The packet of papers hit the table, skidding a few inches before coming to a stop. Sehun picked it up, opening the packet with Jongin and Tao looking over his shoulders to read the document. 

“He only ever did two years, but that was well buried in the prison records.” Chanyeol dragged his hand through his hair, looking gaunt and tired. “After he got out he changed his name and presumably resumed his experimentations, which eventually culminated in this new drug he is pushing. Set to make a fortune off of it, the bastard.”

Yifan felt so stupid, so blind. How had he not known this? He had spent years and years amassing file after file on what happened to them before, during, and after the experiments– yet he had missed that the man responsible for it all was free to continue his work. He felt guilty, towards the others for not having realized this. He felt disappointment towards himself for being so blind. 

“So what are we going to do?” Tao asked, looking up from the documents Chanyeol had printed off. 

“Expose him and make sure he pays for what he did.” 

“But hasn’t he already done jail time? Can he be convicted again?” Trust Kyungsoo to think logically, setting some of the emotions aside. 

“I don’t think his release was anything legal, not by any means.” Chanyeol sat down next to Kyungsoo, scooting his chair closer to his boyfriend in an almost protective gesture. “He was sentenced to life but ended up getting out after two years– and the judge who ordered him released has ties to Choroksaek if you look hard enough.”

Yifan wished this news surprised him, but it didn’t. The world was a cruel place, he had learned that early on. Those with money had power– the power to hurt those who had nothing– like the eleven men gathered around the table. 

Junmyeon cleared his throat. Make that twelve men. “How do you plan on exposing him?”

Yifan hadn’t gotten that far, having only learned of the doctor’s freedom less than five hours ago. He hadn’t had time to do much more than alternate between rage and regret as one by one the others learned what had happened. 

“Won’t it be dangerous if we do this too publically?” Luhan spoke up. 

“How so?” Jongdae questioned, rocking back in his chair. 

Luhan rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, seems like it might be a terrible idea to let the world know we are freaks who can shoot lightning out of our pinkies and turn lights off accidently when we sneeze.”

“Don’t be condescending,” Jongdae argued back. 

“He’s right though.” Minseok cut in, standing up for Luhan. “However we go about this, we should try to stay anonymous. I don’t want to know what would happen if the public found out about us.”

Yifan spoke without thinking, his emotional state getting the better of him. “If it means stopping them we can take the hit of having others know. Or do you want him to be free to do the same to other kids? Because I don’t see how we can expose him without exposing ourselves.”

“Take the hit?!” Yixing, who was normally so gentle and quiet, practically shouted out his words. “Yifan, if we are discovered the hit could be terrible. The government might want us, or god forbid more doctors wanting to study us.”

“So you want to just let him walk the streets to save yourself?” Yifan challenged, ignoring the angry looks he was getting. 

“Yifan, stop trying to be a martyr and think,” Kyungsoo said gently. 

“I am thinking!” Yifan stood up, his chair grating against the floor as he pounded his hands on the table. “I’m trying to make sure he pays for what he did to all of us!”

“What does it matter if he pays if we have our lives taken away?!” Chanyeol shouted back, standing up and staring Yifan down. 

“I can’t believe you guys. Seriously.” Yifan stalked towards the doorway. “I’m going for a walk, I need to clear my head.”

He stormed out of the house, his hands balled into fists as he traversed the streets with long, angry strides. He just wanted to see the doctor pay, right the wrong, jail the corrupt. Why did the others always have to hold back, to grow soft. Why did he always have to be the one standing tall, strong and ready to fight for them?

It was times like this that Yifan hated being the de facto leader. Hated it with a passion. 

 

 

 

 

He didn’t return until that night, spending the day wandering the city streets, hoping the anger and disappointment he felt would dissipate. It lessened marginally as he traversed, but didn’t completely disappear. His thoughts were still fast and curious, his mood intense and angry. 

When he arrived back at the house he made a beeline for the study, intending to shut himself away from the others until at least the next day. He couldn’t take another confrontation, not now, not while he was feeling so depressed and angry.

When he entered the study he paused mid stride, surprised that the room wasn’t vacant. He was usually the only one that used the room other than Yixing. 

Junmyeon sat on the sofa, his legs crossed, and hands resting in his lap. When Yifan made a move to leave he tried to stop him. “Yifan, wait. I need to talk to you.”

He wanted to be alone, really he did. But it was Junmyeon asking him, and somehow in his mind Junmyeon was above the argument they had had earlier in the day. He was an innocent party, a bystander. Yifan turned around and walked to the sofa, taking a seat on the far end. His eyes flickered to the ship in the bottle, the model sitting on the table. Junmyeon must have been working on it again. 

“What is it you want to talk about?” Yifan asked gruffly. 

“I talked to the others,” Junmyeon spoke slowly, purposefully. “And Yifan, I know you’re angry right now, but I was hoping that I could say my peace.”

Yifan stared at the model, not wanting to look at Junmyeon. He had a feeling that if he saw that comforting smile, the one which was so hard to come by when he had met Junmyeon– a man drowned in sadness and despair– he would cave. He would give into anything Junmyeon asked of him, and that scared him. 

“I know that you are angry, and I’m angry too. That person, he did horrible, horrible things to all of us.” Junmyeon paused for a moment. “The others want to see him in prison as much as you do, really they do.”

“It didn’t sound like that to me,” Yifan tensed. 

“Yifan, they’re afraid. They have spent their lives afraid. You gave them their first home, their first measure of freedom and happiness. And now they fear having that taken away from them.” 

Rationally, he knew as much. He recognized the validity of their protests, but by instinct he collapsed into his stubborn ways, his idealistic tendencies yet again dividing him from the others. 

“Yifan.” When Junmyeon gently touched his arm he jumped, looking at the man in surprise. Junmyeon had scooted closer, his hand placed on Yifan’s arm as he looked towards the model on the table. “Think of this ship. It is a ship. A ship should be in water.”

Yifan swallowed, trying to ignore the tingling he felt in his arm, the tightening he felt in his chest at this small amount of contact. 

“But this ship, it is fragile, water would destroy it. So isn’t it for the best it never sees water, but lives safely in a bottle that can protect it?”

“That is a really cheesy metaphor,” Yifan managed to mutter under his breath. 

Junmyeon laughed. “Hey, I was looking for something to get through to you, because I promised the others I would talk to you about it.”

“You promised the others?” Yifan wondered, just when had they all gotten so close? 

Junmyeon nodded. “Seems that they think I can get through to you where they can’t. But honestly, and I told them this, I think you know what is the right thing to do.”

“I do?” He said dumbly. 

“Yeah. I mean you aren’t going to see everyone split up, even if that might be the end result of your first plan. I know you love everyone here, and want what is best for them. So in the end, you would find another way.” Junmyeon smiled again. “You just would spend a few days being a stubborn ass before you gave in and told the others as much.”

“Hey!” Yifan was not amused by the fact that Junmyeon teasing him didn’t make him angry in the least bit, in fact it made his heart stir in an odd and uncomfortable way. 

“Just calling it like I see it.” Junmyeon laughed. 

The door to the study opened, Sehun, Tao, and Baekhyun practically tripping inside. They looked at Yifan with a guilty expression on their faces. 

“Were you listening?” Yifan narrowed his eyes at the trio. 

“You really must have the hots for him,” Sehun drawled. “If any one of us had tried it you wouldn’t have even stayed to hear us out.”

“He is good looking, so we totally get it,” Baekhyun added, while Tao burst into a fit of giggles at the way Yifan’s face turned bright red. 

“I am going to bed.” He stood up with a huff, giving everyone but Junmyeon the evil eye. 

“Legit, he is never that calm with anyone after he goes off in a fit of anger.” Yifan could hear Sehun say as he stalked down the hall, face still cherry red. 

 

 

 

 

“Okay, so what if I like Junmyeon, huh?” Yifan laid on his stomach on his bed, his face propped up on his hands as he stared down his opponent. “What does it matter? Huh? Aren’t I allowed to like someone?”

The white stuffed alpaca didn’t answer. Yifan groaned, grabbing the stuffed animal and hugging it to his chest as he rolled onto his back. 

He wasn’t angry anymore, because he understood what Junmyeon had said, which was what the others had said–albeit when the others said it he wouldn’t listen. He could find another way, somehow. Junmyeon could calm him down like no one else could. He could ease those dark moods that had been a part of Yifan for as long as he could remember. And that was scary in many ways. Now he was embarrassed, that he so readily let go of his anger, something which to Sehun’s words, he never did so quickly. And he knew it had a lot to do with Junmyeon being the one to talk to him. And maybe, he thought, being able to let go of his anger was a good thing. A step in the right direction. A move towards curing his insufferable ways (as Baekhyun called his moods from time to time). 

Now he was feeling embarrassed and maybe a bit confused and a whole lot of frustrated– because, if he wanted to admit to himself he liked Junmyeon as more than a friend his troubles only multiplied. If he wanted to be honest then he suddenly had to consider if Junmyeon liked him too, among other things. Their situations were complicated. Junmyeon couldn’t even remember his past. Why would someone who was missing their memories want a relationship, when they couldn’t even be sure they didn’t already have one?

And of course there was the complication that Yifan had never actually dated anyone, nor confessed to anyone. Which was a bit pathetic, he thought, considering he was well into his twenties. But dating wasn’t exactly easy when you might suddenly fly the moment you lose focus. In addition was his painful past, the nightmares he sometimes had, and the baggage of having had a pain inflicted on him that, no matter how much time passed, would never truly heal. The only people who would understand were one of the ten others, but no one had ever piqued his interest like that. He loved them, but he supposed he loved them like a person loved their family. There was nothing romantic there. 

And then came Junmyeon, with his sadness and mystery. And now he was smiles, and understanding words. His dark hair and dark eyes, the way his cheekbones become so prominent when he grinned at a lame joke that Yifan told. The way he gave easy compliments, and didn’t seem to hang onto the sadness he had first been plagued with. The way he trudged through this mess of a life, never holding things against the others when they were so late in accepting him. Patient. Understanding. Kind. Really, really good looking. 

Yifan punched his pillow. He was in way too deep and he knew it. 

 

 

 

 

The next day, after apologizing to the others for his outburst, Yifan entered the study and found the ship in the bottle had been completed. It set him off, capitulating his already tenuous desire to avoid Junmyeon at all costs. It was a tactic meant to spare his inner turmoil from getting any worse. He locked himself up with Chanyeol, trying to formulate a strategy in which they could find enough incriminating evidence on Choroksaek Corporation without having to reveal their own painful pasts. While Chanyeol breezed through databases, Yifan made notes, hoping something would stand out.

They broke for lunch, which consisted of Yifan asking Chanyeol to bring him food. The man grinned and rolled his eyes but did as he was asked. After wiping potato chip crumbs off the table, they dove right back in. 

It was late in the afternoon when there was a frantic knock on the door.

“Yifan, Junmyeon was attacked!” Yixing banged on the door. 

Yifan was up in an instant, tearing the door open and demanding to know what Yixing was talking about. 

“He was out for a walk with Sehun, trying to see if anything jogged his memory. Sehun brought him back, his face was bashed in pretty bad.”

“Where is he?” Yifan felt afraid.

“In his room.” Yixing led the way, Yifan pushing past him once they got to the room. The door was open, revealing Junmyeon on the bed. His clothing was dirty and torn, and Yifan could see dried blood on his face as he approached the bed. 

“I healed his injuries,” Yixing said quietly, walking up to stand next to Yifan. 

Yifan felt his breathing steady as he looked on Junmyeon’s sleeping form, the realization that he would be okay taking the edge off. It was then he noticed Sehun, standing on the other side of the bed looking shaken. 

“What happened?” Yifan asked, his eyes never leaving Junmyeon. 

“We were walking near the river. I was only gone to the bathroom for a second, but when I got back there were two guys in suits hitting him. I yelled and they got in a car and sped off.” Sehun sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. “Yixing, will he be okay?”

Yixing nodded. “Did you happen to see their faces, or the car license plate?”

“Got a match for the license plate.” Chanyeol walked into the room, answering the question. “And this shit isn’t good. Looks like the car is registered to a subsidiary of Choroksaek Corp.”

Yifan felt a shiver pass over him. So they were after Junmyeon. How long would it be before they were after the rest of them? If they had followed Sehun they would have discovered the house. 

“We need to get out of here, before they come at us full force.” Yifan balled his hands into fists. 

“Where will we go?” Yixing asked. 

“The countryside for now, until we can be sure it is safe here.” Yifan looked at Junmyeon, his chest constricting. If he ever found the people who had attacked him he would do worse to them, much worse. 

“I’ll tell the others,” Chanyeol volunteered. 

“We should leave as soon as possible, so hurry.” Yifan bent over the bed and placed his palm on Junmyeon’s forehead, smoothing away his bangs. He would keep this man safe, any way he could.

 

The house in the countryside was far from the spacious place they had in the city. There was less space, and less comforts, but a greater sense of security. The house had belonged to Yifan’s benefactor, and it was the one property that wasn’t yet in his name. It was, in that way, less traceable and safer. The white stone house had been used as a vacation property, but Yifan rarely came out to the house since he wasn’t keen on leaving the comforts of the city behind. 

Now there were twelve of them in the house, and everyone was feeling the lack of space. Junmyeon in particular seemed to be affected by the move– or, Yifan considered, the attack that had precipitated the need to get away from the city. 

The sadness that had started to disappear from Junmyeon over the past weeks came back, he grew quiet and withdrawn. On the day they arrived in the countryside he retreated to his room, and asked not to be bothered. Everyone gave him his space, including Yifan, even if he desperately wanted to talk to the man. 

He asked Yixing to check on him, and watched as the healer came back with a shrug and a “Says he is fine but he wants to be alone.”

Yifan gave Junmyeon his space until the second day in the house, when he couldn’t control his compulsion to talk to the man anymore (and he convinced himself that Junmyeon had gotten enough rest after the attack and could accept a visitor for a few minutes). He softly knocked on Junmyeon’s bedroom door, half expecting to be told to go away. 

Junmyeon opened the door a crack, then wider when he realized who was at his door. He gave Yifan entrance without saying a word. 

Yifan stepped inside the room, suddenly feeling awkward and at a loss for words. “How are you feeling?” He asked the first thing that came to mind. 

Junmyeon walked towards the single bed, taking a seat on the edge of it. “Fine.”

“Do you remember the attack?” Yifan pulled the chair out from the small desk that sat alongside the far wall, turning it to face Junmyeon. 

Junmyeon stared at the floor. “Yes.”

“We should be safe here,” Yifan felt the need to reassure him. 

“Hmm.” Junmyeon didn’t look up from the carpeting. 

“Is there anything you need?” 

Junmyeon shook his head. “I just need some time alone.”

Yifan stood up, not wanting to bother him anymore if that is what he wanted. Of course he had questions, the knot forming in his gut told him how anxious he was over how Junmyeon was acting. But those questions could wait, he wasn’t going to press Junmyeon so soon after what happened to him. 

Yifan reached forward to place a hand on Junmyeon’s shoulder, a reassuring gesture. When Junmyeon moved out of the touch Yifan felt the sting. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, I’m sorry. I just don’t want to talk.”

Yifan turned and left, shutting the door quietly after him. He had visited hoping to relieve some of his worries, instead he left with a plethora of new ones. 

 

 

 

 

Over the ensuing days Junmyeon kept himself shut off, not coming out of his room unless it was meal time. The others began to worry as well, especially Sehun and Tao. 

“Has he said anything?” Yifan asked Sehun one day after he came sulking from Junmyeon’s room. 

“Nah, he won’t tell me what is wrong.” Sehun frowned. “He just wants some time, he said.”

Yifan obsessed over confronting Junmyeon, forcing him into telling him why he was closing himself off. But in the end he stayed away, a part of him afraid that a confrontation would drive Junmyeon further away and that reality would be more painful than a momentary separation.

 

 

 

They had been at the house for nearly a week and were no closer finding out anything to implicate Dr. Lee. It was frustrating, and Yifan was feeling that on top of the lack of sleep that came from being somewhere that wasn’t home. 

When, much to Yifan’s surprise, Junmyeon suggested they get out of the house for some fun, he was ready to latch onto the idea. 

Junmyeon seemed unusually carefree that day considering his actions of the last week. He announced over breakfast, “I think we should all get out for a day, this house is making everyone stir crazy.”

Choruses of ‘yes’ followed and Yifan had no choice but to admit it was a great idea. Junmyeon smiled widely at him, causing a faint blush to form on his cheeks. He had missed that smile, and to get it back he would do almost anything. 

 

 

 

 

It turned out to be exactly what they all needed. Despite the lack of sleep everyone was eager to get out of the house and explore, the house sitting on a good lot of acreage. For the first week everyone had been nervous, not daring to leave in case they attracted unwanted attention. After a week without incident, the fear was dissipating. Even Yifan smiled and nodded when Jongdae suggested they utilize their remote location for a game of capture the flag. 

“Just don’t burn down the forest,” Yifan wagged his finger at Jongdae and then Chanyeol, then turned to Kyungsoo, “Or rip every tree out of the ground.”

“Wait, we are playing with our–” Junmyeon cut in, looking confused. 

“Yeah, we don’t get to do this often.” Yifan considered this might be a bad idea, but the happiness he saw on the others faces at the mere suggestion of a game made him want to take the risk. 

“Okay, two teams. I say team captains are,” Baekhyun stepped forward, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes, “Junmyeon and Yifan.”

“Me?” The appointed captains both spoke at once, confused. 

“Yep. Now pick your teams.” Baekhyun waited patiently as the two men cast off their dumbfounded expressions and began calling names. 

Junmyeon ended up with Chanyeol, Baekhyun, Sehun, Jongin, and Kyungsoo on his team while Yifan led Jongdae, Tao, Minseok, Luhan, and Yixing. The rules were decided - each player could be tagged out by the other team. Once they were tagged out they could no longer play. Tao was made to promise he wouldn’t turn back time at every opportunity in exchange for Jongin being allowed to only teleport once. With each team standing near their flag, Sehun sent a gust of wind whistling across the field to signify the game had begun. 

Yifan’s team had come up with a strategy. Luhan would lift the flag from the other side and into the air, where Yifan would catch it. Minseok would create an ice shield to protect Luhan and their own flag, while Tao, Jongdae, and Yixing would stand by as needed. 

As soon as the game started Luhan concentrated on the opponent's flag, sending it skyward. Yifan cracked his knuckles, shucking off his jacket and tossing on the ground. As Minseok created a shield of ice, Yifan was air bound, the sight of the flag rising skyward his sole focus. 

Junmyeon’s team's strategy was painfully obvious. As soon as the game started Junmyeon looked to Jongin. Yifan was certain his plan was to have Jongin teleport and snatch the flag. How predictable. 

As Yifan went towards Junmyeon’s flag, he saw Chanyeol go to work melting the ice shield with a controlled burst of flames. Then the wind picked up, pushing Yifan back as he tried to fly towards the flag. When he looked down he saw Jongin disappear, in the blink of an eye reappearing behind Luhan and tagging him out. 

The flag dropped to the ground as Luhan was eliminated, plopping onto the soil as Yifan struggled against the wind. He could hear Yixing yelling something about Jongin being out, and then Tao yelling in turn because he must have been tagged out himself. Yifan struggled to move forward, but the force of the wind pushing him back was too much. And now the odds were not in his favor.

He watched as suddenly Sehun was surrounded in ice, breaking the constant wind that he had been struggling against. With all his energy he flew towards the flag, hoping he would have enough time to grab it before something else stood in his way. And that was when the rain started, heavy sheets beating down on him. It wasn’t as much of an obstacle as the wind however, and he powered through it. 

Junmyeon noticed he was getting closer and in a last ditch effort to protect the flag he grabbed it and hugged it to him, giving Yifan a daring look. 

Yifan wasn’t going to let the rain or the person controlling it win. He swooped down, taking Junmyeon and the flag with him as he rose into the air. Junmyeon let out a strangled noise, grabbing onto Yifan’s t-shirt in fear as they ascended. Yifan had his arms around Junmyeon’s waist, he wasn’t going to let him fall. The rain continued, plastering Yifan’s white t-shirt to him. Junmyeon was soaked as well, his grey t-shirt and jeans suddenly form fitting. 

“I think we won!” Yifan called down, his announcement met with groans from Junmyeon’s team, as well as a few very loud cheers from Yifan’s team. The rain stopped as suddenly as it began.

“Congratulations,” Junmyeon whispered. Yifan looked up from the ground and found that his face was only inches from Junmyeon’s, an occurrence he hadn’t thought of when he had lifted Junmyeon up with him. 

Yifan felt like the air had been knocked out of him as he stared into Junmyeon’s eyes. His heartbeat increased as he let himself revel in what he was doing, in the way Junmyeon’s body was molded to his own, in the way Junmyeon had his arms around his neck, so close Yifan could feel his breath on his cheeks. 

Yifan felt like his mouth was full of cotton, the words gone. He was facing a man who he could admit to himself he was crazy about. Completely and totally crazy. It was a momentous effort to get himself to move, away from the field, away from prying eyes. Yifan used his abilities to move towards the tree line, as far away as he could from the others. 

He stopped above a small clearing, far enough away from the others to give them complete privacy. When Yifan looked back on the moment, he thought perhaps Tao had been messing around, slowing time for his own amusement. Because it certainly felt like that moment lasted far longer than it possibly could have. As Yifan inched his face closer to Junmyeon’s, the smaller man closed his eyes and tilted his head, parting his lips in invitation. It was all that Yifan needed to press their mouths together, slotting his mouth against Junmyeon’s.

Junmyeon’s lips were soft, softer than Yifan could ever have imagined. He hummed into the kiss, his body on fire as Junmyeon kissed him back. When Junmyeon parted his lips wider, Yifan licked into his mouth, weeks of pent up attraction, unrequited feelings bursting forth and resulting in a heated lip lock. 

It began to rain again, the droplets streaming down their bodies. Yifan lowered them to the ground, to a small clearing in the woods, their kiss breaking as they landed. 

The rain began to come down harder, stinging as it fell in fat drops. Yifan felt Junmyeon slip out of his arms, and he could tell the other man was shaking, a tremor racking Junmyeon’s body moments before he divested himself from Yifan’s hold. 

“Junmyeon?” Yifan was afraid, the rain coming down even harder now. He glanced at Junmyeon and saw in his face only anguish and despair.

“What is it?” Yifan asked, starting to panic.

“I’m sorry, so very sorry.” Junmyeon stepped back just as the rain became blinding. 

Yifan reached for him, trying to see through the sheets of water that made the entire landscape a grey blur. He had never been caught in a rainstorm like this, it was a flood falling from the sky, the water never ending. 

Yifan stumbled forward, slipping on the wet ground and falling to his knees. He called for Junmyeon but did not receive an answer. 

When the rain stopped a few minutes later, Yifan scanned the area around him frantically. When he didn’t see Junmyeon he began to run, searching the woods before running onto the field. He called his name, rushing to the house in a frenzy. 

When he burst in the front door he found the others in the living room, towels in hand as they tried to clean up from the rainstorm they were caught in. 

“Is Junmyeon here?!” Yifan asked, ignoring the strange looks he was getting. 

“Isn’t he with you?” Minseok shrugged. “We haven't seen him.”

“Guys!” Sehun yelled from the dining room. Yifan pushed past Luhan and Chanyeol, nearly careening into Sehun as he took a precautionary step back. 

Yifan spotted a piece of paper in Sehun’s hand, and without warning he snatched it away. Sehun gave him a dirty look, but Yifan was too busy reading to see it. He had recognized Junmyeon’s small, neat handwriting. 

_I’m sorry. National Bank, Box 1001. Don’t try to follow me._

Yifan was vaguely aware the others were talking, asking him what the note said, asking him what was happening. He knew there were words being said but he couldn’t listen. Not now. 

He stared at the note in his hands, numb. He couldn’t make sense of why Junmyeon had left, or why he had scribbled down a bank deposit box. Nothing made sense anymore. 

Junmyeon had gone, just like he had come– with the rain. 

 

 

 

Yifan felt numb, his pain and anguish held at bay by an overwhelming sense of confusion and string of what-ifs. 

When the others realized Junmyeon had left, they grew serious. Kyungsoo offered to retrieve the safe deposit box on Junmyeon’s note, but Yifan wouldn’t let him. He needed to do it, and perhaps there would be some answers there. 

What bothered him incessantly was that he should have known something like this would happen, the way Junmyeon closed himself so completely off over the last week. He wished that he hadn’t let it be, that he had insisted, that he had broken through and told Junmyeon how much he cared about him. But he hadn’t, and now Junmyeon was gone. 

He drove into Seoul the next morning, the note folded in his pocket. He found the bank with ease, the teller behind the desk acted like she had been waiting for him. Whether that was true or not he wasn’t sure, but she gave him a curious look as she led him to the rows of safe deposit boxes, gesturing towards the one Junmyeon had indicated in his note.

When the bank teller left, he pulled out the oblong metal box, setting it on the table. Yifan’s palms were sweaty as he opened it, sliding it out to reveal a packet. With shaking hands he opened the envelope, pulling out file after file. They were financial transactions, all from Choroksaek. And with it was a very detailed explanation of illegal slush funds, enough to bring the company down for good. Shady dealings, with criminal figures, embezzlement, illegal transfers. 

It was, Yifan realized, the way that they could ensure Dr. Lee would never hurt anyone again. And at the bottom of the stack was a letter, in Junmyeon’s neat handwriting. 

 

 

_Yifan,_

_This should be everything you need to see Dr. Lee put away for the rest of his life. Take this to Prosecutor Choi Siwon at the Central District Attorney’s Office, he will kick start this case without revealing your identity._

_You probably want to know how I found this, but you won’t like the answer. In fact I suspect you will hate me for this, and I can’t blame you. I hate myself for it too._

_My name is Kim Junmyeon, but I didn’t realize it until I was attacked that day. The men who came after me were working for Dr. Lee and they were sent to dispose of me because I wasn’t doing my job._

_I was a program director at Choroksaek Corporation, hired right out of college. A year ago I needed money after a few bad investments, and Dr. Lee somehow got wind of it. He offered me a deal, one that brought me to you._

_I was given the same drug that was tested on you when you were a child, all in exchange for money. But that wasn’t all – the only reason I was given the drug was so I could bait you and the others in and deliver you to Dr. Lee. He wanted to clean up the last evidence of his prior crimes before his new drug hit the market and his fortunes were restored. That evidence was you. I was supposed to be the one who lured you in, my own freak powers allowing you to trust me. I was supposed to lead you to your death._

_That was as much as I could remember when I met you. That I had an address and a phone number, and it was my job to make the call and tell them where you and the others were. I am not sure how they erased my memory, but when I came to that day it was the only thing I was sure of. I assume they wanted to lessen their liability, and if I remembered everything it was a risk. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is I agreed to do this._

_Yet I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t do it. And when my memory fully came back I was certain I never would. Was it the sudden trauma that made me remember my old job and old life? Or maybe it was my desire to understand why these men were after me. I am not sure, but once I remembered the deal I had made I was disgusted I had ever agreed to do such a thing._

_The only good thing I did, it seems, is collect this evidence before I was administered the drug. I guess it was my insurance policy if Dr. Lee tried to fuck me over. Now it is yours. Take him down, make him pay._

_I don’t expect you to ever forgive me and honestly you shouldn’t. I am sorry, even if I have no right to apologize._

_Junmyeon_

 

 

Yifan crumpled the letter in his hand as his eyes stung with the threat of tears that never fell. A few minutes later the bank teller came in to check on him. He grabbed the files, walking out of the bank and never looking back. 

 

 

 

The Seoul Central Prosecutor's office was busy, attached to the courthouse the foot traffic was disorienting. Yifan faced the stream of people, gripped the files tightly to his side, and went looking for the office of Choi Siwon. When he found the prosecutor’s nameplate he pushed the door open slowly, like doing so would make this entire situation that much more real. 

A secretary asked for his name, which Yifan refused to give. “I have files for Choi Siwon, from um Junmyeon.” The name hurt to say aloud. 

When the secretary called back to Siwon’s office with the message, Yifan was given entry immediately. 

A tall, middle aged man opened the large double doors to the left of the secretary, a curious expression on his face. 

“Come in.” He gestured for Yifan to enter. 

The office was large, with overstuffed leather chairs and three walls lined with bookshelves - neat leather-bound editions giving the space a dark and enclosed feel despite the square footage. 

“Did you say Junmyeon sent you?” The man took a seat in one of the chairs. Yifan followed his lead, still gripping tightly to the files. 

“Yeah. Do you know him?” 

“Yes, I do. Did he want you to give me those?” Siwon gestured at the packet. 

Yifan nodded, handing over the evidence. When Siwon pulled out the papers and began rifling through them he whistled, then broke into a grin. 

“I never thought I would see the day.” Siwon couldn’t stop smiling. 

“Pardon?” Yifan wasn’t following.

“I have been hounding Junmyeon to give Dr. Lee up for years, but he wouldn’t, not when his own prestige was on the line.”

“How exactly do you know Junmyeon?” Yifan was curious. 

“Ah, well, I was married to his sister before she passed and since their parents are gone and all, we were pretty close. So that makes him my brother-in-law,” Siwon rambled off their relationship, but he never looked up from the files. 

Junmyeon had a sister and parents that died. It was, Yifan realized, the first thing he knew about the man’s past other than what was in the letter. “You said he would never turn stuff like this over to you before?”

“Yeah, I mean-” Siwon looked up from the documents. “Wait, how do you know him?”

“I’m a friend.” 

“Oh well in that case. You know how proud he is, how much he likes money. There was no way he would see the company he works for fall in a corruption scandal, because that means his own image would be tarnished. Which makes me wonder what changed his mind. I never thought I would see the day, honestly. Something must have really happened for him to do this.”

Yifan swallowed. So Junmyeon would never have done something like this, never would have indicated corruption even if he knew about it. He knew so little about the man he had lived with for months, knew so little of what motivated him. 

“I’m glad he finally came around though. Tell him thanks for me.”

Yifan stood up. “You don’t happen to know where he is, do you.”

Siwon raised his eyebrows. “You mean you don’t?”

“No.”

“Ah, he doesn’t usually tell me what he is up to. Sorry, no clue.”

Yifan left the prosecutor to pour over the documents, striding out of the district attorney’s office with long strides. When he reached his car he sat for a moment, trying to understand what had happened over the last day. 

When he started to drive back to the house in the countryside his tears began to fall. It was the first time he had cried in years. 

 

 

 

 

They returned to the city the day after Dr. Lee and the executives of Choroksaek Corporation were arrested.

Yifan had told the others the truth about Junmyeon, or as much as he could repeat without tearing his heart in two. The others took Junmyeon’s deception with varying degrees of regret, anger, and forgiveness, with the latter being a reaction that everyone finally accepted. Yifan took it the hardest, by far, retreating within himself and spending most of his time in the study. He felt guilt - at having insisted Junmyeon gain acceptance when the fears of the others turned out to be warranted. He felt betrayal that Junmyeon had so easily won him over– gaining his approval and his heart. And the most intense feeling, the one that did nothing but make him angry, was longing. Of love. Of wanting. He still wanted Junmyeon, he still wanted to see him, to know that he was okay. And that was the worst feeling of all because he felt this way about a man who had set out to kill him, regardless of if he had gone through with it or not. Regardless of if he came into it remembering his motivations. 

As the months passed Yifan never let go. He brooded, closing off the others as he wallowed in his inability to hate a man that he should, by all reason, detest. 

When the trial of Dr. Lee started it was televised. The others were watching it, Yifan knew, but it held little interest for him. Nothing much held interest for him aside from a few books, and the rain. 

He had long since smashed the ship in the bottle, throwing the fragile model against the wall one night as his heartache reached a fever pitch. The next morning he found the pieces in his desk drawer, someone must have saved them for him. He shut them away and ignored them, like he was trying to ignore the man who finished slotting together the model piece by piece. 

It was the day that Dr. Lee was convicted and sentenced to life in prison that the wall Yifan had built around him finally crumbled. 

One by one the ten men, the closest thing he had to family, squeezed into the study. All eyes were on him as they began to plead their case. 

“Yifan, you can’t keep living like this,” Kyungsoo said softly. “We’re worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” It had become his standard response. 

“No, you aren’t,” Jongin protested. He held out his hands and it took Yifan a moment to register that that Jongin was handing him something. 

“What is this?” he asked as he took the paper, scanning the page. It was an airline ticket. 

“We’ve been doing some digging and we think Junmyeon is in Marseille.” Yixing reached out and patted Yifan’s arms. “Go, find him. Bring him home.”

“How could you want him back after what he did?” Yifan asked, his voice hoarse.

“He is a good person, otherwise he never would have helped us. And you love him, which is the most important thing.” Luhan wasn’t one for mushy diatribes, so Yifan knew he meant it. 

Was that it, what he felt? Love. He looked around the room, the emotions swelling up inside. Everyone else forgave Junmyeon, and Yifan had been struggling to forget. But maybe forgetting wasn’t the key. Maybe finding Junmyeon was. 

“How can I forgive him?” Yifan asked, his words coming out as a barely contained sob. 

“What he did was wrong. But he tried to make up for it, and that shows that he isn’t a bad person. He helped us win, Yifan. Give him another chance, because I know you want to,” Baekhyun spoke.

Yifan began to cry as he hugged each of his friends - no, family - one by one, never having expected the others would have been looking for Junmyeon all this time. 

“There, there big guy, let it out.” Sehun patted Yifan’s back when it was his turn for a hug, earning a playful punch to the arm. 

“Hey, you have always been a cry baby, you just try not to show it,” Sehun protested. 

Yifan hugged him longer than the rest as revenge. 

The next morning he boarded a plane for Marseilles.

 

 

 

 

Yifan drove the rental car along the winding roads, following directions to a place that had seen almost constant rain in the last few weeks. “Never stops,” a woman in the hotel he checked into reported. He couldn’t be certain, but it was a shot. A possibility. Chanyeol had pinpointed Junmyeon boarding a plane to France months ago– he might not there any longer. But Yifan would try. 

It was a little outside the city, away from the coast, where the rains fell the hardest, the sky overcast as the blocks of buildings turned into rolling fields and nettle forests. 

When Yifan reached the heaviest part of the downpour he stopped the car, and set off into the woods. When he was deep enough into the forest and far enough away from the road he rose into the air, attempting to get a good vantage point. He scanned the area, hoping he would see a solo figure walking somewhere nearby. 

He didn’t spot a person, but he did spot a building. A white brick house that was half in ruins– broken windows and hanging shutters. Yifan lowered himself to the ground and walked in the direction of the house, his heart thudding against his ribcage as he went. Was Junmyeon there? 

As he neared the house someone left the building, walking towards him with their head down. It was Junmyeon, clad in a white long sleeve sweater and jeans. His hair was messy, windblown. Each step that he took the rains battered down harder. Yifan was drenched, but he could care less. 

He stopped walking, waiting for Junmyeon to notice him. When Junmyeon lifted his head he instantly stilled, staring across the two dozen feet that separated them. 

“Yifan,” he whispered, his dark eyes filled with the sadness that Yifan remembered so well. The pain that had been there before. But wasn’t that all a lie? This, Yifan thought, this pain was real and he couldn’t be convinced otherwise. 

He strode towards Junmyeon, catching the man as he began to fall, a look of utter shock on his face. It was a bizarre repeat of the first time they met, when Junmyeon had fainted away in the rain. It was a replay, but circumstances couldn’t be more different. 

He lifted Junmyeon close to his chest and carried him back into the house, every nerve ending in his body firing at once as he held Junmyeon to him. The longing, the grief, the guilt. It was all too much as he held the one man who he had ever loved to him. 

The white wooden door slammed shut after them, Yifan scanning the sunroom quickly, eyes landing on a sofa. His leg smacked against a wicker table filled with magazines as he lowered Junmyeon to the couch, ignoring the man’s soaked clothing.

“Why?” Junmyeon asked, his voice hoarse. 

“Because I love you.” Yifan didn’t want to talk, and Junmyeon seemed to follow his inclination. Yifan lowered his face to Junmyeon’s, smashing their lips together in a desperate kiss. Months of craving coupled with a relationship that never was given the chance to fully develop driving the frenzy. 

Junmyeon moaned into the kiss, and like the noise woke him up he tried to pull back but Yifan chased his lips with his own. When they parted Junmyeon pushed Yifan from him, a weak shove to the taller man’s chest. “No.” He blinked through tears. “You don’t love me, not after what I did.”

Yifan leaned over, cupping Junmyeon’s face in his hands. The other man didn’t pull away, thankfully. “What you did is save us. You aren’t a bad person, Junmyeon. If you were you wouldn’t have done what you did.”

Junmyeon closed his eyes, tears escaping through his long lashes. He took a deep breath. “You can’t mean that.”

“Do you love me?” Yifan asked, holding his world in his hands, not wanting to argue anymore. 

Junmyeon opened his eyes, and stared into Yifan’s. “Yes.”

When Yifan captured his lips again, Junmyeon didn’t move away. Their frenzied kisses devolved into slow and languid movements, Yifan savoring the taste of the man he had missed so much. He was half on the couch, leaning over Junmyeon, who had reclined back and twined his fingers into Yifan’s hair. It was an awkward angle, and when their lips parted Yifan moved aside. 

The room was all windows, and Yifan knew that this was going somewhere that shouldn’t be seen by anyone that happened by. The way Junmyeon’s lips were swollen, his cheeks flushed despite the tear stains, was erotic in a strange way. It almost felt wrong, how much Yifan wanted him, how much his body was already responding, like it had been starved for Junmyeon’s touches for years not months. 

Junmyeon wiped at his cheeks, sitting up and then grabbing for Yifan’s hand. Yifan let himself be led into the house, away from the sunroom. He barely had time to register that the house was a mess, rundown, with tiles falling off the walls. They reached a door that was half open, revealing darkness. Junmyeon stepped inside, fiddling for the light switch. 

A single lightbulb came on, illuminating a mattress on the floor, a pile of clothes, and not much else. But Yifan didn’t care, could care less that they weren’t in a luxurious room with a mound of pillows. The only thing he cared about was Junmyeon, who was pulling him inside and shutting the door. 

Junmyeon turned to look at him, his gaze steady and unwavering. He moved forward, pushing Yifan backwards gently until his back hit the door. Their height difference was half a foot, which led Yifan to place his hands on Junmyeon’s waist and pull him up until their lips met. It was a wet and messy kiss, Junmyeon breaking away and sucking and nibbling down Yifan’s jaw. 

Every touch of Junmyeon’s lips, of his teeth, of his tongue, were like fire on Yifan’s skin, igniting a primal hunger. His hands moved without thought, pushing up Junmyeon’s wet shirt as Junmyeon started his own exploration of Yifan’s chest. 

When Junmyeon sucked a mark onto Yifan’s collarbone he let out a whimper, pulling Junmyeon flush against him and fully kissing his lips. Yifan moved forward, half holding Junmyeon as they stumbled towards the mattress. They fell with a thud, Yifan bracing Junmyeon’s weight on his own. It was momentarily painful, but he forgot about it as soon as Junmyeon’s hands found the button of Yifan’s pants. 

It was a scramble as they undressed each other, there was nothing gentle or slow about it. Junmyeon was divested of his shirt as Yifan all but ripped off his own, both men quickly taking care of their pants as well. Junmyeon slipped his wet jeans off his legs, tossing them in a corner with a flick of his foot. He turned to Yifan, who was suddenly caught staring at the man next to him. 

He had never seen Junmyeon shirtless before and the sight was breathtaking. He was pale and muscular, with abs that Yifan had never guessed were there. His waist was thin, and his legs, when Yifan got the courage to look, were as pale and unblemished as the rest of him. “You’re beautiful,” he managed to stutter, unable to look away. 

“You have a tattoo,” Junmyeon reached out, tracing the black dragon on Yifan’s upper arm. He caught himself, moving back and adding, “I mean you’re not bad yourself.” 

Yifan laughed, reaching for Junmyeon as his body shook in mirth. Junmyeon smiled, crawling to Yifan and pressing him back against the mattress. 

His breath hitched as Junmyeon straddled him. Yifan was hard, his erection tenting against his boxers. Junmyeon was straddling his middle, his ass pushing back on Yifan’s hardness. He swallowed at the realization, his hands going to Junmyeon’s waist. 

“I missed you so, so much,“ Junmyeon whispered, leaning forward to place soft kisses on Yifan’s cheeks. It was loving, reverent almost, and Yifan felt his emotions well up as he caressed Junmyeon’s waist. “And I’m sorry, Yifan, I’m so, so sorry.”

Yifan didn’t want to hear another apology, another round of ‘you shouldn’t forgive me’. He was quick to silence Junmyeon with a kiss, moaning into it when Junmyeon pushed back against his cock. 

He was so aroused, he wasn’t sure how long he would last. It didn’t help that he had never done this before. When they broke their kiss Junmyeon went back to sucking marks into Yifan’s skin, lower and lower until he was swiping his tongue over Yifan’s left nipple. Junmyeon took the nub in his mouth, gently sucking for a moment as he ran the pads of his fingers over the right nipple. It was an amazing sensation, one that made Yifan bite back a loud moan. 

Junmyeon licked lower, moving his hand along the breadth of Yifan’s chest. 

Yifan shivered, his body overly sensitive as Junmyeon caressed him. “Get on your back,” he managed to get out, unable to take their current position for much longer. 

Junmyeon lifted his head, giving Yifan a questioning look before rolling off him. When he shimmied out of his boxers and tossed them aside, Yifan swallowed hard, then repeated the action. His own boxers were discarded as he crawled back onto the mattress, his eyes fixated on Junmyeon’s flush face. 

It was embarrassing, but he felt like he had to say it. “I um, have never…”

“Neither have I...” Junmyeon suddenly looked a bit afraid, while Yifan felt relief wash over him. The relief was gone when Junmyeon explained. “Not with a man before. I um, have with women.” When Yifan didn’t answer he blurted out, “But I want to, with you.”

Junmyeon’s words didn’t help with the anxiety Yifan was facing. Junmyeon could sense it, trying to sooth him he reached forward and caressed his cheek. 

Yifan took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. “Okay but, I think we need supplies.” Yifan wasn’t completely naïve, he had watched porn before and he knew how it worked, he had just never done it himself. “We need lube.”

“Ah, um.” Junmyeon glanced around the room. “I don’t think I have anything like that.”

Yifan knew that spit could work, though the thought wasn’t exactly appealing. But if it was the only thing they had, they could make do. Junmyeon agreed, slipping back against the single pillow.

“Who should…?” Yifan gestured aimlessly, not saying it out loud. 

“I figured you would,” Junmyeon answered in a small voice. When Yifan blinked at him he followed up with, “Be on top. I mean, if that is what you were asking.”

Yifan wouldn’t have said no to the other way, he could honestly care less. Not when Junmyeon was naked before him, not when they had finally connected after so much pain and strong emotions. 

When Yifan moved forward Junmyeon spread his legs, visibly tensing. 

“We don’t have to do this,” Yifan felt guilty suddenly, like this was maybe the wrong place and the wrong time. They had just met again and now they were preparing to have sex for the first time. 

“No, I need this right now, we should.” Junmyeon offered a small smile, which was all the encouragement Yifan would get. 

Yifan pushed his finger in his mouth, wetting it with his saliva. He leaned over, hesitating for a brief second before licking a stripe up the underside of Junmyeon’s cock. Junmyeon shivered, still tense, as Yifan took his cock in his mouth with one hand. With his other hand he began to tease at Junmyeon’s entrance, tracing the puckered hole with his slicked finger. 

He bobbed his head up and down slowly as he pressed the tip of his finger inside, Junmyeon tensing up and crying out the instant he was inside. 

“Sorry, I’m sorry.” Yifan lifted his head and removed his finger. 

“No, keep going. I just need to adjust.” Junmyeon was fisting the white blanket, sweat forming on his brow. 

Yifan took Junmyeon back in his mouth, and slowly pressed his finger inside, feeling the tight warm cavern swallow him. He moved his finger back and forth slowly before pulling out, the lubrication not enough as he scraped against Junmyeon’s insides. 

He moved his head back, licking at the tip of Junmyeon’s cock before wetting another two fingers. He inserted them slowly, making sure he kept a slow rhythm with his other hand, pumping and working Junmyeon’s dick as he scissored inside of him. Junmyeon moaned as he was spread wide, crying out when Yifan inserted a third finger. It was a slow, careful process. 

“I,” Junmyeon pushed back at Yifan’s head, urging him to stop. When Yifan lifted his head and gave Junmyeon a questioning look he said in a raspy breath, “I don’t want to come like this.”

Yifan pulled his fingers out, rocking back on his legs he coated his hand with saliva. With a few pumps he had transferred the makeshift lubricant to his cock. He lined up against Junmyeon’s hole, his cock hard and leaking pre-cum. 

Junmyeon grabbed at Yifan’s arms, his nails digging into the taller man’s forearms as Yifan pushed inside of him. It was a slow movement, one that had both men keening at the sensation. Yifan let out a throaty moan as his cock was sheathed with heat. Junmyeon was tight even if he had been stretched, and it felt amazing. 

Yifan began to move with Junmyeon’s urging, setting a slow pace as Junmyeon wrapped his legs around Yifan’s waist. The feeling of skin on skin, their bodies joined together, had Yifan crying out with abandon. 

Junmyeon already looked fucked out, his pupils wide, his skin slick with sweat. It was a beautiful sight, one that had Yifan pivoting forward, earning a loud moan from Junmyeon as he pressed kisses into the corners of his mouth.

They rocked together, the pace increasing as Junmyeon began to whimper. Yifan felt his release coming, fire pooling in his abdomen as his hips met Junmyeon’s at a merciless pace. He wouldn’t last long, he couldn’t, not when Junmyeon began clawing at his back and begging for his own release. 

Junmyeon came first, Yifan’s name on his lips as he quaked through his orgasm, spilling hot cum across both of their stomachs. He clenched onto Yifan’s dick as he came, insuring Yifan was only seconds after him. He drove into Junmyeon hard, his release emptying as he cried out. 

The room was silent, side from their heavy breathing. 

Yifan pulled out slowly, earning a whine from Junmyeon. 

“Are you okay?” Yifan asked as he flopped onto his back, catching his breath for a moment before leaning over to plant a kiss on Junmyeon’s brow.

“Honestly?” Junmyeon wiped his bangs from his sweat slicked forehead. “It hurts like hell now that we are done but I would do it all over again if you wanted to.”

Yifan reached for him, feeling guilty that he had caused him pain. 

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Junmyeon murmured into Yifan’s chest. 

“Only if you stop saying you’re sorry too,” Yifan whispered, kissing the top of Junmyeon’s head as he wrapped his arms around him. 

“Deal,” Junmyeon answered. 

They fell into silence for a few moments before Yifan spoke. “Come home with me.”

When Junmyeon didn’t answer, Yifan pushed Junmyeon from him, afraid. He looked into his eyes and was met with the reemergence of tears. 

“Okay,” Junmyeon said quietly.

Yifan pulled his lover to him, his heart swelling with the realization they had the rest of their lives ahead of them. 

They finally got out of bed a few hours later, after a nap and another round, albeit a less strenuous one. When Yifan walked to the sunroom he paused in the doorway. The sun shone brightly, the wet ground drying in the sun. The rain had ceased to fall.


End file.
